Like Sand Through the Hourglass
by WuvWinchesterHugs
Summary: Jackson "Sonny" Kiriakis had always been the family maverick, but even he couldn't understand his impulse to buy a dilapidated mansion on the outskirts of Salem, Illinois. All he knew was that ever since he first saw the DiMera mansion, he'd been enchanted-and obsessed-with it. Only the companionship of Will Horton can distract him from the mysterious happenings in the house.
1. Auld Lang Syne

DiMera mansion, Salem, Illinois

December 30, 1940

_The baby's crying. Alice can hear it in her sleep, that tiny little noise of distress indicating restlessness. It was accompanied by a hunger deep in her gut, like the tiny thing was still growing inside her womb. Her tits are leaking before she's completely awake._

_She wakes up promptly, without a complaint. On the contrary, she loves it--being able to provide what's needed for her baby._

_She goes to the couch to lift the bathrobe draped over it, drawing in the scent of lavender roses, her favorite, blooming out of a vase given as a wedding gift._

_Before Tom, she was lucky if she could even find rose petals to make perfume with._

_If Tom were here, he'd be awake right next to her. It didn't matter if she'd smiled, stroked his hair and encouraged him to go back to sleep, he would be in the nursery faster than she could finish Bill's midnight feeding._

_She misses him terribly, another ache in her bones that never really went away, nor did she want it to. But as she gets her child ready to feed, she reminds herself he's to return the very next day. She would eagerly watch for him come that very next morning, waiting to see his automobile pull into the driveway._

_She doesn't care what anyone else thinks or says, she will be the first one there to greet him. Her heart will beat right out of her chest, it always does, when he opens the door and sweeps her off her feet to carry her back inside._

_And on New Year's Eve, there would be dancing._

_She hums as she lights a candle, protecting the flame with her hand as she moves to the door, out into the hallway of the mansion where she had once been the help and now the wife of one of the men of the house, if not its own daughter._

_The nursery was on the same floor as their bedroom, only made possible by a very long and drawn out battle with Tom's mother, and winning. Adelaide Horton was no pushover, especially when it came to how a married couple should behave in the bedroom. Mrs. Horton, Alice thinks to herself as she moves quickly and quietly past the other bedrooms, knows what she knows, and that's that. Babies belong in a nursery, not in the corner of his parents' bedroom. Nevermind that the room was only converted into a nursery because Tom wouldn't hear of using the one on a completely different floor from them._

_It could be worse, she supposes as the flickering candlelight lights the way. At least she'd manage to keep Bill with her for 5 weeks. And used the same cradle she'd slept in when she was an infant herself, as had her own mother._

_Bill had spent his first nights alive in that old thing, a tiny cupid with his adoring parents right there with him._

_Her son would be raised to respect his father's family, and Alice would see to it herself that would extend to her own family as well._

_It's only because Adelaide kept complaining about the baby and the cradle that Tom and Alice had finally relented. It's like picking at a scab, Tom told her. Keep poking and prodding at it long enough, the scab comes off, and the blood comes out._

_Now the baby sleeps in the nursery that's not a nursery, in a crib Horton babies had been sleeping in for generations._

_If not comfortable, it was at least proper, Alice assures herself. Her little Bill was a Hirton. He'd grow up to be a fine young man._

_And as Adelaide loved to point out every chance she got, other household members were not to be disturbed by a baby crying. However the Grayson's handled things, here at the DiMera mansion, children were taken care of in the nursery._

_How it made her shudder to say it. Grayson,--you'd think she was refraining from spitting on the name._

_It doesn't matter if Mrs. Horton hates her, or if Mr. Horton wants nothing to do with her. It didn't even matter that Santo DiMera looked at her the way no man should be staring at a married woman, especially not his brother-in-law's wife._

_Tom loves her._

_So what if Bill sleeps in a nursery? They could be separated by another floor, even another planet, and she would still know Bill's needs as well as her own. That bond is unbreakable._

_No matter how many battles Mrs. Horton thinks she's won, Alice has already won the war, because she has Tom and Bill._

_Candles lit up the nursery. Henderson, the nursemaid, didn't trust the gas. She's already holding Bill and trying to calm him with a teething ring, but the baby's red face and angry flailing fists prove it's not working._

_"This little one has quite the temper." Alice puts down the candle and laughs as she reaches them, already holding out her arms._

_"Knows exactly what he wants, and won't budge until he does." Henderson, a nice woman with tired eyes, gives the baby one last squeeze before handing him to her mother. "He's barely even made a fuss. How could you have heard him across the end of the hall?"_

_"He's my baby. Don't you worry, little one. Mama's here."_

_"Needs a diaper change."_

_"I'll take care of it." Alice rubs her cheek with the baby's and smiles. Henderson was a good friend--another won battle. Having her here in this mansion in the nursery, provided a comfort to Alice and the companionship nobody in Tom's family was offering._

_"You can go back to bed. Once he's fed, he'll sleep all through the night."_

_"Right as rain." Henderson's fingers brush through Bill's unruly hair. "If I can't help, I'll just go down to the river. Michael said he'd be there." Her tired eyes light up at the mere mention of his name. "I told him if I could get away, I'd meet him around midnight."_

_"Henderson, you really ought to marry that boy."_

_"Oh, I will. I might be gone for an hour or two, if that's alright with you, Alice."_

_"Absolutely. But see to it you don't catch anything but fish." she advises as she gets ready to change Bill's soiled diaper._

_"Not to worry. I'll be back well before 2." She makes her way to the adjoining door, then turns back for a moment. "Say, Alice? Growing up, did you ever think you'd wind up as the mistress of this house?"_

_"I'm not even close to a mistress." She tickles the baby's feet, which elicits a giggle from little Bill. "And I guarantee whoever is, will live into her hundreds out of pure spite just to see to it that never happens."_

_"If anyone were to succeed, it would be her. But I think you will, one day. You were incredibly lucky, Alice, and it really suits you."_

_Now alone with the baby, Alice tickles, coos, powders and replaced the soiled diaper with a fresh one. Once Bill was tucked into a fresh onesie and swaddled, Alice settles into a rocking chair, chest bare for that tiny greedy mouth. Those tiny little sucks, the hard pull from her teat, made her sigh in contentment. Indeed, she was lucky. Because Thomas Horton, the next in line for the DiMera Mansion, the knight in shining armor in just about any fairy tale you can imagine, noticed her. And loved her._

_She bends her to watch her baby feed. Bill's eyes were open, locking them with hers. Only the tiniest crease of concentration wrinkled his otherwise smooth forehead._

_Oh how she prays those eyes would stay blue, like Tom's. His hair was blond, like her own. Blond and wavy, but his skin was pale, also like his father's._

_He'll get the best qualities from both of them, Alice thinks to herself. He'll have the best of everything._

_Not just the money, the mansion, or even the social standing, even if she can't deny wanting those things for her children now that she has them for herself. No, what she's really after was accepting, understanding, and just knowing in your heart you belonged there. Her son, and all the children who would no doubt come after, would learn to read and write, speak proper English and French, equally fluently._

_No one would dare turn a nose down at them._

_"You'll be a well respected young man." Alice whispers silently, stroking the baby's cheek as Bill's hand kneads her teat for more milk. "A well educated young man with your father's good heart and my good sense. Daddy's coming home tomorrow. Last day of the first year of a new decade, and you'll be alive for many more to come."_

_She keeps her voice quiet, just soft enough to almost lull them both to sleep._

_"It's so incredible, William, my little Bill. There's to be a wonderful party tomorrow night. I have a new dress, blue to match your eyes. Match your daddy's eyes. Did you know it was his eyes I first fell for? They were so soft. So loving. When he came back to the DiMera mansion from the university, you would've thought him a soldier coming home from overseas. I still remember how hard my heart was pounding that day."_

_With that, she leans back to rock back and forth in the flickering candlelight. Her thoughts are flooded with the following night's New Year's Eve party, and how she and Tom would dance together, how her dress would billow and swoop to the waltz._

_How she'd make herself a wife Tom could be proud of._

_Which makes her think of the first time they ever danced._

_In springtime, the air heavy with the scent of flowers, the whole house lit up like a star. She'd snuck into the gardens, away from her chores, because she just had to see it for herself. How the windows lit up the sky like fireworks, how the music poured out of them, out of the doors where the guests stepped out for air._

_She'd gotten lost in imagining herself in that ballroom, twirling to that music, casting shadows on the garden. And it was during said twirling when Tom had seen her, watching her from afar._

_Her own Cinderella story, she thinks. The prince taking her hand and pulling her into a dance only moments before the clock struck midnight. There weren't any glass slippers or pumpkin carriages, but the night was truly magical._

_She remembers in perfect detail how the music reached them from the doors to the balcony , through the air, into the garden._

_"A simpering, whimpering child again, Bewitched, bothered and bewildered, am I…"_

_She sings quietly, shifting her son to her other test._

_"Couldn't sleep and wouldn't sleep, when love came and told me I shouldn't sleep…"_

_They danced to that wonderful song in the garden lit by moonlight with the house lit up in white and gold behind them. Her in a simple dress, Tom in his evening wear. And like straight out of a fairy tale, it was during that wonderful song they had fallen in love._

_She's well aware it had been happening long before that. In her mind, it had started the first time she ever laid eyes on him, in that gorgeous Streamliner he'd ridden from Chicago to the mansion, and the way the sun had reflected off the metal. His step brother had been riding with him--Santo--but she only had eyes for Tom._

_At the time, she'd only been working at the mansion for a few weeks, doing her best to please Mr. and Mrs. Horton so she could keep her job as well as her money._

_He was always nice to her--kind and respectful--whenever they passed each other in the halls. But she was already aware of how many second glances he was sending her way. Not the same way Santo did, with lustful looks and an unsettling smirk. No, Tom's second glances were full of longing, she knows that now._

_In the following weeks, she'd run into him frequently. He'd often track her down. Now she knows that, because he'd finally confessed to it on their wedding night._

_But the night or really all began was the night of that party. When the song finally finished, he just held her for one more moment, before taking a bow, gentleman that he was, then kissed her hand._

_And then, just when she was sure it was over, that whatever magic she'd been feeling was fading, be tucked that very same hand into the crook of his arm, and led her away._

_As they walked, they talked. About the weather, flowers, juicy gossip. Nothing was off limits on that night._

_It was as if they'd known each other their whole lives, Alice thinks now, smiling. Like there wasn't even a question of if it was weird for Thomas Horton to be walking through the gardens with Abigail Grayson._

_The walk through the garden became a habit for many of the following nights. Inside, under everyone's scrutiny, they stayed the master and the help. But during that entire spring, they were always walking through the garden as young lovers, telling the other about their hopes and dreams. Of their loves and fears._

_When she turned 18, he'd given her a box wrapped in sparkly blue paper with a silver bow. The bronze hourglass was beautiful dangling from the matching chain. Like sand through the hourglass, he told her as he'd helped to clasp it around her neck, so are the days of their lives since they'd been together. And he would rather have his life slip right through his fingers than spend one more day without her._

_Which is when he'd proceeded to get down on one knee and asked her to marry him._

_It could never happen. She'd begged him to see that through her falling tears. He was so far away from her, he could have anyone he wanted._

_She remembers very clearly how he'd laughed at her, how his happiness had lit up his whole face. How could he be so far away from her if they were still holding hands as they speak? And he does have anyone he wants, and that's her._

_"And now we have each other, and then we made room for you." Alice whispers and shifts the half asleep baby to her shoulder. "And if the Hortons hate me for it, who cares? He's happy with me."_

_She turns her face into the baby's neck. "I'm still learning how to talk and act like a Horton. I will never truly be on the same wavelength as a true Horton, but for Tom, I can pretend, at least in front of them._

_Content, she rubs Bill's back and keeps rocking back and forth. But when she hears footsteps quickly approaching, she's immediately rising from the chair, arms instantly wrapping around the baby as she turns towards the crib._

_She hears Santo come through the door and knows without looking he's drunk. He was always either already drunk or on his way to becoming._

_Alice doesn't say a word, just lays the baby down in the crib, and when Bill whimpers in restlessness, she strokes him until he settles once more._

_"Where the fuck is the nursemaid?" Santo demands._

_Alice still doesn't move. "You're not allowed in here when you've been drinking."_

_"Who the fuck do you think you are to give orders?" The words come out slurred, his balance severely limited in his intoxicated state. But his mind is very much intact. Alcohol clears the mind, in his opinion._

_And his mind had never been clearer when it came to his step brother's wife. If Tom had a new toy-and what was a woman really but a doll to be propped up?-Santo wants it for himself._

_She was tiny, almost petite. But she had strong legs. The shape of them in the firelight in the makeshift nursery lit them up through her translucent nightgown. She could easily wrap them around him as she does his step brother._

_She was well endowed in her chest, more so now that she'd had the little brat. He'd grabbed them once, and she'd promptly slapped him. Like she had any say in who was allowed to touch her._

_He closes the door behind her. The little bitch he'd paid for that night didn't even scratch the surface of what he was really after. And tonight, he's taking it._

_"Where's the other whore?"_

_At that, Alice clenches her fist and finally turns, blocking the crib with her body. He looked nothing like Tom, and the hardness in his eyes only magnified that. Not just a hardness, a darkness deep inside him that bled from every pore of his body._

_Now she wonders Santo came into the world already having it all in the palm of his hand just because he asked for it. But she was smart enough to know he wasn't to be trusted when he was drunk. Now's where he learns the same thing._

_"Henderson is my friend, and as of now, you will never talk about her like that again. Get the hell out. How dare you act like you have any right to come in here and insult me. I'm going to tell Tom this time, mark my words."_

_She watches as his eyes trail down to her still exposed chest, lust in her eyes, and quickly covers herself with her robe._

_"You disgust me! Coming into a child's room with impure thoughts about your step brother's wife."_

_"Step brother's whore." He smells her anger, with a little fear mixed in, which only proceeds to arouse him. "If our parents had never married, you'd be spreading your meds for me instead. But I'd never let you steal my name the way you stole his."_

_She juts out her chin. "You don't even exist in my world. Not in anyone's. Next to him, you might as well be a ghost. An apparition, one that only ever smells of liquor and sex."_

_She wants to run. He scared the crap out of her, always had deep down inside, but she would never dream of leaving him with the baby. "Once Tom gets word of this, you'll be gone."_

_"He can't do shit to me, and we all know it." He moves closer, like a hunter stalking its prey. "My stepmother is the one with all the power in this house. And I'm the favorite. Who your parents are doesn't mean shit."_

_"He will have you sent away." Her throat closes up, knowing Santo is telling the truth. It's Adelaide who has final say in the DiMera mansion._

_"Tom did me a favor by marrying you." Santo drawls lazily, like they're just having a late night conversation. He knows she's not going anywhere. "She's already legally disowned him. Sure, he'll still have the house, nothing she can do there, but I still have the money. And it's that money that keeps this place standing."_

_"Take it then. The money and the house." She waves it all off dismissively. "Take everything, and take it straight to hell."_

_"He's pathetic. My beloved step brother. Always are."_

_"He's a good man, better than you can ever hope to be."_

_She hopes she managed to piss him off, enough to hit her and storm out. But he does neither, instead laughs silently and maniacally, as he still moves closer._

_When she's what he's really planning, her first instinct is to scream. But just as quick, he reaches out a hand to grab her blond hair and yanks hard enough to silence it, the other wrapping around her neck and squeezing, hard._

_"Tom's things are my things. Even his whores."_

_She fights him in every way she can, slapping and biting, and whenever she manages to catch her breath, she screams. He rips her robe off her chest, groping her teats. In the crib, the baby starts to cry._

_Alice uses the cries to fuel her, as she spins herself around and stumbles over her torn nightgown. Her hand closes over the poker for the fireplace, and swings it blindly, slamming it right into Santo's shoulder._

_He screams in pain, falling back against the hearth, and she dashes towards the crib. She has to reach her baby, to grab him and run._

_He catches her sleeve, and she screams once more as the material rips. Even as she reaches to grab her son from the crib, Santo pulls her back. He slaps her, whipping the back of his hand over her face and knocking her into a table, causing a candle to fall on the floor and pool wax._

_"Whore! Cunt!"_

_He was crazy. She sees that now in his eyes, the flush of his cheeks. It's in that moment that the initial fear she harbored for him turns to terror._

_"He'll have you arrested for this. My Tom will have you put away." She tries to get back on her feet, but he just hits her again, using his fist so she feels it on her face, on her body when he touches her. In a daze, she crawls towards the crib, blood in her mouth._

_My baby boy. Dear lord, please don't let him hurt my precious baby boy._

_He was on top of her, as well as his stench. She writhes unseen him, tries to yell for help, as the baby's cries combine with hers._

_"Don't! Please! You're ruining your own life!"_

_But as he thanks up the skirt of her nightgown, she knows nothing she says, begs, or any amount of struggling would deter him. He would tarnish her, ruin her, because of her last name. Because she was Tom's wife._

_"You want this." He slams into her, the surge of adrenaline rushing through him like ichor. Her face is so pale from fear and shock, skin raw from where he'd hit her. Feeble, he thinks to himself as he takes out all his jealousy on her. "You all want this. Filthy whores."_

_Again and again, he rapes her. The pure excitement of making her take it forces him to keep going until his breathing is reduced to short gasps._

_Now she's crying, full on sobbing, as well as screaming. Somehow she's still screaming as he keeps ramming his anger, jealousy, and pure disgust into her._

_As the clock starts to chime at midnight, he closes his hands around her throat again. "Shut the fuck up." He slams her head onto the floor, squeezes harder, but the screaming still pierces his eardrums._

_Alice hears it too, faintly. The baby desperately crying reaches into the deep recesses of her mind, along with the clock's chimes. She slaps, mere flutters against the hands cutting off her air supply, trying to cut her off from the unwanted distraction._

_Help me. Jesus Mary and Joseph. Help me save my baby._

_Her vision starts to go black, her feet spasming as her whole body starts convulsing._

_Her last coherent memory is the sound of her crying son, Tom's name echoing in her mind._

_The nursery door bursts open. Adelaide Horton stands just inside, quickly able to piece together what had happened._

_"Santo."_

_His hands are still wrapped around her throat as he looks up. If his stepmom saw anything close to crazy in his eyes, she was actively ignoring it. With her hair nearly put together for the night, her robe buttoned all the way up, she steps over the body and crouches down._

_Alice's eyes are wide and vacant, a trickle of blood coming out the corner of her mouth, bruises adorning her face._

_Emotionless, she leans down to check her pulse._

_"She's dead." Adelaide announces, quickly moving to the adjoining door, opening it and glancing inside before closing it again and licking it._

_For a moment, she just stands there, back against the door, a hand to her own throat as her thoughts race with what would be coming. The disgrace, the scandal._

_"It was an accident." His hands shake as they finally slide from Alice's throat. The liquor was clouding his head, making his stomach churn._

_He sees the marks he left on her skin, dark and damning. "She...f-forced herself on me, then attacked…"_

_She walks across the room again, her feet catching on the hardwood floor. She crouches down and promptly slaps him, one quick skin on skin. "Shut up. Stay quiet and follow my instructions to the letter. I'm not losing my other son to this succubus. Take her back to the bedroom. Go out through the gallery and don't come out until I find you again."_

_"It was all her fault."_

_"You're correct. And she paid the price. Take her back, Santo, and make it snappy."_

_"They're…" One tear falls from his eye and lands on the floor. "They're going to execute me. I have to get the hell out of here."_

_"No, they are not going to execute you." She brings his head to her shoulder, stroking his hair over her daughter-in-law's dead body. "No, my dear, they're not going to execute you. Do what I say. Bring her back to the bedroom and wait for me. Everything's going to be okay. Everything's going to be exactly how it's supposed to be. I swear to you."_

_"I can't bear to touch her."_

_"Santo!" She snaps. "Do exactly as I say. Now."_

_Then she rises, walking to the crib, where the baby's crying has been reduced to whimpering. Right then and there, she considers covering the child's mouth and nose with when hand. No different than suffocating an injured animal._

_Except…_

_This child has her son's blood in his veins, therefore hers as well. She can hate it all she wants, but she knows she can't kill it. "Go back to sleep." She says. "We'll deal with you later."_

_As her stepson carries the woman he'd raped and murdered out of the room, Adelaide begins to reset the room exactly as it was left. She picks up the candle, scrubbing at the cooled wax until no traces could be found._

_She replaces the fire poker and wipes up the blood with Alice's ruined robe. She's very efficient, refusing to think about what caused the room to be in disarray in the first place, only focusing on what needs to be done to keep her stepson out of prison._

_When she's absolutely positive the room was as clean as it's going to get, she unlocks the door once more, and leaves her grandchild alone, now sleeping soundly._

_The next morning, she'll fire the nursemaid for negligence, seeing to it she's gone and out of the DiMera mansion before Tom comes home to find his wife missing._

_She'd made her bed, Adelaide thought. That's what you get for trying to think you can change the way things have always been. There's a natural order to it, and a reason that order is in place. If she had never seduced Tom--there had to be some seduction on her part--she'd still be amongst the living._

_Hasn't this family suffered enough? The embarrassment of their marriage. Having to hold your tongue when your only son runs away from a poor woman who had nothing to her name who'd grown up God knows where._

_And let's not forget everything that came after that. Saving face was of the utmost importance, even after a bombshell such as this. Did she not do absolutely everything she could to make that creature from hell looked the part of a Horton wife?_

_Silk gowns, embroidered handkerchiefs, she thinks. What good were the latest fashions when all she had to do was open her mouth and our came the voice of a Grayson? Good god she'd been the help!_

_Adelaide steps into the bedroom, closes the door behind her, and stares back at the bed where her son's dead wife stares up at the ceiling._

_Now, she thinks, Alice Grayson is nothing more than a nuisance to be dealt with._

_Santo is curled up in a chair, clutching his head. "Shut up." He mutters to himself. "Shut the fuck up."_

_Adelaide marches right over to him, firmly grasping his shoulders. "Do you want them to arrest you?" She demands. "Do you want to ruin both the Horton and DiMera family names in one fell swoop? To be strapped to the electric chair like come criminal?"_

_"I'm the victim here. She seduced me. Then she attacked me. Look, look. See?" He shows his face. "See the scratches on my face?"_

_"I do." Right then, only for a moment, Adelaide hesitates. The heart of the very thing she'd turned into reared its head in protest against the horrible thing that no woman should ever be put through._

_Human or creature, she'd loved Tom. Whatever she'd been, she'd been raped and murdered only a few feet away from her own son's crib._

_Tom forced himself on her, abused her, raped her, then murdered her._

_Drunk and crazy, he'd murdered his stepbrothers wife._

_Then she forcefully shoves it away. She's dead, but her stepson is not._

_"You bought a hooker for the night. Don't you dare look away from me." She snaps. "I'm well aware of what men do. Was it a woman?"_

_"Yes."_

_She nods, "Then it was the prostitute that attacked you, if anyone dares to ask anything. You were never in the nursery." She cups her face in his hands to force him to maintain eye contact, fingers digging into his cheeks as her voice is low and clear, "You have no reason to be in there. You went out for a drink and a good time, and after you had both, you came home and went to bed to sleep it off. Are we clear?"_

_"B-but how do we explain--."_

_"We don't have to explain anything. I told you exactly what happened tonight. Repeat it back to me."_

_"I w-went to town." Santo swallows. "I got drunk, then bought a prostitute. Came home and went to bed."_

_"That's good. That's absolutely right." She strokes his scratched cheek. "Now we're packing up her things--clothes, jewelry. We have to be quick, because she decided to run off with someone she'd been having an affair with. Who very well could be the father of that baby in the nursery."_

_"Who?"_

_Adelaide sighs. She loves him to death, truly, but his stupidity sometimes made that difficult. "Forget it, Santo. You don't know anything. Take this." She grabs a cloak from the closet. "Wrap her up in this. Now. Do it!" She says in a tone that leaves no room for argument, prompting him to get to his feet._

_His stomach threatens to make him sick, and his hands shake, but somehow he still manages to wrap the body in the cloak to the best of his ability while his stepmother stuffs the belongings in a box and suitcase._

_In a rush, she stops a bronze necklace with an hourglass dangling from it, the toe of her slipper kicking it to the corner._

_"Well dump her in the river. We're going on foot, and fast. There's plenty of stones, so we can weigh her down. Even if someone finds her, it's away from here. The man she was having an affair with killed her."_

_She dabs her face with a handkerchief. "That's what people will know if anyone ever finds her. We have to get her the hell out of the DiMera mansion. Now."_

_She's really starting to piss herself off._

_It's under the moonlight. She tells herself it's under the moonlight because God understands what she's doing, and why she must do it. She can hear her stepson's uneven breaths, along with the sounds of being outdoors. The crickets, the cicadas, the birds all combining into one long note._

_It was a year after the start of a new decade, a chance to start again before the next one. She will get rid of this abomination that dared tried to corrupt her family and finish this decade, this new chapter, strong and healthy._

_The air is cold, the ground wet. But she feels like her skin is on fire as she gets further away from the house, weighed down by the bags she'd packed up and weighed down. All the muscles in her body strained in protest, but she keeps marching on._

_Only once does she allow herself to believe she feels someone touching her cheek, as faint as a ghost. The ghost of the dead woman following her, condemning and cursing her family._

_She uses that fear to push forward._

_"Here." She stops to look out at the water. "Drop her in."_

_Santo obeys, then quickly gets up, turning away to cover his face with his hands._

_"I can-I can't do it. I'm gonna throw up."_

_He collapses right by the water, retching and sobbing._

_Pathetic thing. She thinks, only slightly annoyed. Men know nothing about handling a crisis. It takes a real woman to get the job done._

_Adelaide opens the cloak, placing stones on top of the body. Sweat drips down her face, but she focuses on the task like anything else. Efficient, and quick. She takes out one rope and carefully ties it all around the body. Wotr another, she loops it through the luggage handles, making sure the knot is tight._

_She spares a glance to see Santo observing her, face ashen. "You need to help me. I can't dump her body by myself. She's too heavy."_

_"I was drinking."_

_"You are correct, Santo. You were. Now you've sobered up enough to deal with the fallout. Help me dump her body in the river."_

_His legs nearly give out from under him with every step, like a puppet's strings being pulled._

_The body falls into the water almost too easily. Other than the sound of the body splashing once it hits the water, there's a bubbling of air, and then it's gone, leaving ripples of water on the surface in its wake, lit up by the moonlight, before they're gone too._

_"She's gone forever." Adelaide states. "Soon she'll fade like the ripples in the water. Like she was never here at all. Clean your shoes twice if you have to, Santo. Don't be stupid enough to have a servant clean them."_

_She hooks her arm with his, smiling, though there's something manic about it._

_"It's time we got back and got some rest. We have a very big day ahead of us."_


	2. Closing Time

January 2019, Salem, Illinois

Mom was right--of course she is. Sonny Kiriakis stares through the dirty windshield into the rain, for once happy she wasn't there to rub it in his face.

Not that Adrienne Johnson Kiriakis was a gloater to begin with. All she had to do was give you a knowing look, not even say a word, and the silence did all the gloating for her.

She was very clear when she said when he'd come out to visit before making the drive to Chicago, that he was crazy. And would have this regret follow him to the grave. He'd swear on anything she actually said it would "follow him to the grave."

He's not regretful, not yet, but from his quick study of the ivy choking the walls, the almost falling apart galleries, the paint falling off and broken rain gutters of the old abandoned mansion, he's no longer sure about his sanity.

Seriously, what had possessed him to think he was capable of restoring this piece of crap to its former glory? Hell, what possessed him to think it had to be him? He was former CEO of Titan Industries, a Kiriakis of the Salem Kiriakises, and could probably climb K2 easier than scaffolding.

Squatting in a vacant apartment in his down time for two years was nowhere near relocating to here and pretending he knows what he's doing.

Was the place really in this bad shape when he'd seen it last? Was that possible? But that was what, 5, 6 years ago? There's no way it was in this bad shape. He was 21 when he'd spent a crazy St. Patrick's day celebration with his roommate. 8 years ago, he thinks, as he puts his hands behind his head. Not even close.

The DiMera mansion had been eating away at him for 8 years straight. His obsession with it has lasted longer than all of his last relationships combined. And that was AFTER he was out of the closet.

Now the place belongs to him, come hell or high water. And he sure hell is going to be making good on that promise.

His brown eyes, brown as the mud on the ground, gave the structure a once over. The beautiful doors welcoming you into the mansion had mesmerised him on that day in March so long ago. Those arched doorways, the belvedere on the roof. The perfect mix of Italian and Catholic had all seemed so intoxicating and vintage.

Even back then he'd never felt right, in a way not even coming out of the closet could fix, back in Chicago, and Paris before that.

The house had reeled him back in, like a hook to a fish, he thinks now. He'd been able to picture it perfectly before he and Chad had ever even broken in.

Or maybe all the Irish beers they'd chugged just made him think he had.

A drunk kid who'd barely reached adulthood couldn't be trusted with something this big. And, Sonny regretfully has to admit, neither could a completely sober 29 year old man.

The second Chad mentioned the DiMera mansion was on the market, he put in his own bid, unseen by him and the public for decades. He just had to make the place his. It's like he'd waited his whole life for this opportunity.

The price was fairly reasonable. Long as you don't consider all the money that has to go into it to make it functional once again. So he's not going to think about it. Not right now.

The mansion belongs to him, regardless if he was possessed or if he's actually onto something. He'd already traded his coveted CEO position for a tool belt. Just the thought of that makes him so deliriously happy.

He pulls out his smartphone--take the CEO out of Chicago... still looking at the mansion, he calls up Chad DiMera.

He reaches a secretary, picturing Chad at a desk covered in papers. The thought makes him smile, one that really softens out his face as well as his eyes.

Life could always be worse, he thinks. That used to be him.

"Hey, Son." Chad's voice streamed into his car's Bluetooth like a speaker suddenly blasting music. "Where are you?"

"I'm in my car staring at this white elephant of a mansion I just had to have. Remind me again why you didn't talk me out of it or declare me mentally unstable?"

"You're already there? Damnit! I thought you were coming tomorrow."

"Couldn't wait." He scratches his chin. "Drove almost all night and headed back out early in the morning. But Chad? Please tell me again what I was thinking?"

"How would I know? But listen. Just give me a couple of hours to clear my schedule, then I'll be there. Bring some celebratory drinks. We'll toast to your new death trap and catch up for old times sake."

"Good. That's a good idea."

"Have you gone inside?"

"Not yet. Still working on it."

"Sonny, come on. Get the hell out of the rain."

"Alright, alright." Sonny rubs a hand over his face. "See you when you get here."

"I'll bring food too. Please please please don't try and cook something yourself. Last thing we need is to burn the place to the ground before you've even stayed the night."

"Fuck you." Sonny hears one last laugh before finally hanging up.

He turns the engine back on, driving all the way to the back, close to what was left of the back door. He opens the glove compartment and takes out the keys that he'd been mailed after buying the property.

The second he steps out of the car, he's soaked. Boxes are gonna have to wait, he decides as he jogs over to under the awning, feeling a few of the floorboards give out underneath him, shaking the water off of him like a wet dog.

There's supposed to be some plants along the structure, he thinks. Something with purple flowers. If he thinks on it hard enough, he can see it. An open...thing, like a container, with heart shaped leaves.

Where did I see that before? He wonders, before reaching the door. It was a double door, with the glass somehow still standing with detailed etchings on both sides. Tracing his fingers over the glass, some of the thrill he'd felt returns to him.

"Welcome home, Sonny." He says out loud, before finally unlocking the door.


	3. House History

The place is exactly how he remembers it. The wide open flooring, the tall ceiling. Something hanging from the ceiling that no doubt at one point held a chandelier in its glory days. For now, all Sonny can do is hang a simple light bulb, dangling from a wire, but at least when he flips the switch, the light actually works. That's not nothing.

Regardless, the foyer is the highest selling point. It spread out, wide and menacing to where the other rooms were waiting.

Just what exactly a single gay man with no current relationships nor plans to pursue any needed with this big mansion was something he just wasn't ready to sit down and puzzle out.

The wood is covered in dust, but when he rubs a finger over it, the wood still feels smooth. How many hands had done the same thing, he wonders. These were the type of things he was fascinated by, drawn in by.

The kind that have him climbing the still functional stairs while leaving the front door still open to the elements, all his belongings still in the car.

They might have had carpet on them once. Probably had been runners in the hallways too, Something dark red. And everything from the floorboards to the carvings and tabletops would be meticulously polished with beeswax until they were shinier than the chandelier itself.

Whenever there was a party, women in glorious gowns would glide through the ballroom, strong and trendsetting. Most of the men would gather in the pool hall, discussing politics and money over cigars and the game.

And the help would make it snappy, making themselves invisible, fueling the fireplaces, replacing glasses, following orders.

On impulse, he pushes on a panel. The door revealed is so carefully hidden, it practically blends with the now faded wallpaper. Sonny has no idea how he knew it exists. He's positive someone had to have mentioned it to him.

Curious, he peeks into the dark tunnel. Most likely a den of some sort for the help, he suspects. Family and guests weren't too big on having their help seen if it could be helped. Good help always sees to it they were never seen at all, but still does their work efficiently, and quietly.

Sonny frowns, straining his eyes to get a better look. How the hell does he know that? Did his mom tell him? No, as controlling as she can sometimes be, she'd never say anything so stuck up.

Sonny shrugs dismissively, then closes the door. He'll check it out later, when he has better lighting and a way to get back through it.

He walks along the hallway, briefly glancing in the rooms. All of them empty and covered in dust and smelling damp from the rain. Some of th walla still had wallpaper, while others had exposed wood sticking out.

The sitting room, study, and pool hall was easy enough to picture, the bar still intact. He circles it once, touching the wood with one hand, crouching down to see how its held up over the years.

He'd always loved working with wood, going all the way back to high school. He'd even gotten a job working as a laborer, despite his family's objections. In truth, his own objections to working behind a desk as an intern for Titan were louder. The outdoors was a much more preferable office, where he could start a nice tan and flex his muscles.

One of the only times in his entire existence where his dad had switched sided and had been in a united front with him against his mom.

He'd gotten sunburns, splinters, blisters, calluses and bruises and a really stiff back as souvenirs, and in doing so, had fallen in love with the job.

Not the actual building part, Sonny thinks now. Fixing. Taking what's already there and making it better, healing and putting it back where it belongs.

Nothing else has ever compared, or even been in the same ballpark.

He'd gotten a real knack for it too. Natural talent. Good hands, eyes, smart mind. Sonny had never let himself forget how that whole summer made him feel. And still nothing has ever come close.

But maybe this will, he thinks. Maybe him doing this will. There just has to be more waiting for him than getting through one day at a time doing what he's told and what's socially acceptable. Sonny's anticipation grows as he goes back to exploring. When he reaches the ballroom, he has to stop and smile, "Wow!"

That one word echoes and nearly bounces right back at him and hits him right in the eardrums. Thrilled, he walks in. The floors are scratched, stained and covered in spots. So many sections are damaged where it looks like someone had put up a divider to separate the party goers, then someone else had taken them down.

But that's something he can fix. Some idiot had splashed drywall and an ugly color of yellow paint that clashes over the original plaster. That he can also fix.

At least the ceiling is still intact. The work done on it really is beautiful, complicated vines of flowers and fruits. It needs a serious repair, and someone far more qualified at that. He'll find someone up to the task.

Sonny throws open the doors to the gallery, exposing it to the rain. The heavily neglected gardens are spread out, pierced by overgrowth and cracked pathways. Most likely there's a goldmine of plants out there. He's going to need a landscaper, but hopefully he can handle some of it himself.

Most of the small buildings surrounding the property are in shambles now.

He can see part of a chimney, a wall of a cabin smothered in vines, broken bricks and a rusty roof of an old pigeon coop.

The house only has five acres, so most likely any other existing structures that it had owned in the past now belonged to the neighbors.

But he still has trees, he thinks. Beautiful trees. Ancient mighty oaks that surround the property and drip with water and moss.

A splash of color catches his eye, and without thinking, Sonny follows it out into the rain. It's a bloom, a tall, well endowed bush with blood red flowers. What the hell could possibly be blooming in January? He wonders, making a note to ask Chad.

He closes his eyes for a moment, listening. All he hears is the rain hitting the ground, splashing and falling off the roof.

He's doing the right thing, he tells himself. He's not out of his mind after all. He'd found it. It feels like it really belongs to him, and even if that's not true, so what? He can find another one. And at least he'd actually worked up the nerve to actually look at the place.

Sonny steps back inside, humming to himself as he walks back across the ballroom back to the family living quarters, to check out all six bedrooms.

It's only when he approaches the first few bedrooms does he realize he's actually singing.

"A simpering, whimpering child again, bewitched, bothered and bewildered, am I; Couldn'tsleep and wouldn't sleep, when love came and told me I shouldn't sleep…"

Sonny stops looking at the trim and looks over his shoulder, half expecting someone to be standing there. Where the hell did that idea come from? He wonders. The song, the words. He straightens himself up, shaking his head.

"The ballroom, dumbass." He chastises himself. "You were thinking about the ballroom, so you started singing about love. Weird, maybe. But you're far from crazy. Neither is talking to yourself. Millions do it too."

Across the hall, the door is still shut. Despite expecting the hinges to squeal, the sound still sounds like nails on a chalkboard.

But the second he baffles the room, that's immediately replaced with complete and utter shock. He'd swear on his life he can smell perfume. Flowers, roses. Weddings, funerals. And for a second he imagines them, soft and lavender colored and still wild in a tall crystal vase.

After shock comes the irritation. He'd only brought a few pieces of his own furniture, and the movers had gone and dumped them in the wrong room. He'd given very explicit instructions. His room's the one in the corner, with a clear view of the garden and the pond, and the trees to the side.

Now he has to settle for this room, or move the furniture himself.

The scent of roses overpowers his nostrils when he pushes the door all the way open, disorienting him. In his confusion, he realizes it's actually not his furniture at all. The bed is draped in blue silk, a wardrobe in the corner, a chest of drawers in another. Sonny smells the beeswax on the wood, sees the roses in the tall crystal vase on a vanity table, legs curved like a teacup handle. The chair is delicate, with a rose embroidered on the royal blue back.

Silver brushes, a bronze hourglass necklace. Long drapes. A white robe tossed over the chaise.

Candles on the mantel, a picture in a frame.

Sonny can see it all, clear as the day. Before he can wrap his head around how this was even possible, just as quickly he's back to standing in an empty room with rain hitting the windows outside.

"Jesus." he grips the door by the jamb to keep from falling over. "What the hell was that?"

He takes a breath. There's nothing but dust in the air.

He's just projecting, he assures himself. All he's doing is projecting what he thought the room might have looked like in its glory days. He didn't actually see anything, or smelled for that matter. He just got swept up in the place's charm, and the spirit that came with it.

And yet he still can't bring himself to walk into the room.

He closes it again, walking straight to the room in the corner. Sure enough, his furniture is there, exactly where he asked for it, and he's grateful for the relief he feels on sight.

The good old fashioned antique queen bed with its normal foot and headboard not untouched. The one time he and his mom actually agreed on something was their love for antiques, the respect for the craftsmanship, the history behind them.

Sonny had bought it after Paul had turned down his proposal. Okay fine, after he'd tried to push Paul to come out of the closet with his proposal, which ended in him losing Paul altogether, he admits with the usual guilt that accompanies it. He wanted a fresh start, and so had sought out pieces for his ideal bedroom.

He'd chosen a bachelor's bed because not only does he assume he's going to stay one for the time being, but because of the style as well, the inlay, the compartments, even the legs. He'd chosen the armoire to hide his flat screen TV and stereo, and the sleek modern lamps because he thought they went well together.

Seeing them there in this huge room with its fireplace in dark red, the gallery doors, the faded wallpaper, the miserably scarred floor, brings him back to reality.

The connecting dressing area makes him smile. All he needs is a valet, and a tuxedo, and he'd be set. The modernized bathtub, however, had him flinching at the ugly green decor and dying for a hot shower.

He's just going to take a quick walk on the third floor, he decides, same on the main, then take that ugly abomination of a tub for a spin.

He goes up, only to realize the song's stuck in his head again. Around and around it goes, almost like a waltz. Instead of fighting it, he lets it in. It's the only companionship he has until Chad decides to show up.

Many of those hopes vanished, just like the party.

It's more narrow on this staircase, because it's mainly for the children and help, neither of which need anything glammed up.

He'll save the servant's chambers for later, he decides, and goes back downstairs to circle towards what he assumes is the makeshift nursery he heard about.

He reaches for the doorknob, the bronze dull from time and lack of upkeep.

A chill, enough to where it actually makes him shudder, sweeps over the hall. When he lets out a breath, it comes out in a puff.

As he closes his hand over the knob, Sonny feels nauseous, so fast it makes his throat close up. He feels sweat dripping down his forehead, his head spinning.

In that moment, the fear he feels in his heart is so profound, so painful, all he wants to do is run.

But instead, he chooses to falter back, leaning against the wall while that sheer terror and alarm strangles him like a pair of strong hands.

Don't go in. Stay away.

Whatever voice he's hearing, Sonny decides it's a good idea to listen. He knows the stories about how the mansion is haunted, actually didn't mind them at all. Or so he'd thought.

But in that moment, just the suggestion of opening the door to reveal what awaits him on the other side, on top of everything else, is too much for him. On a completely empty stomach. After driving for almost 11 hours.

"This is a waste of time, and you know it." He says out loud, to fill the silence. "What happened to unpacking the car? That's what I should be doing, and that's what I'm going to do. Right now."


	4. Ghosts That We Knew

"You talking to yourself again, Son?"

Sonny jumps about a foot in the air, and just barely manages to turn the scream in his throat into a screech. "Damnit, Chad! You scared the crap out of me!"

"I'm not the one that just got caught talking to a closed door! I even called out, Buu I guess you were otherwise occupied."

"Guess so."

Sonny leans against the wall, sucking in a breath as he looks at his best friend.

Chad DiMera has the good looks that any con artist would envy. It's like he was born to be a CEO, Sonny thinks. Sharp with blue eyes and a month that could give you a smile so charming, you'd do anything the man giving it to you said, even if your gut told you it was a lie.

He is a little skinny, but it was a healthy kind of skinny, where he didn't need to bulk up despite all the food he always seems able to put away. In his college years he'll let his light brown hair grow out, but now it's almost a buzz cut, very professional looking.

"Thought you said you'd be here in a couple of hours."

"I am. It's literally been two and a half hours since I called you! You okay, Sonny? You're not looking so good."

"Must've been the long drive. But man, am I glad to see you."

"What, you're just now realizing?" Then Chad laughs and grabs Sonny in a tight hug. "Jesus, you've really been hitting the gym. Turn around for me, so I can see your ass."

"You dumbass." They clap each other on the back. "I need you to tell me something. Rght now." Sonny implores as he finally steps back. "Am I completely insane?"

"Absolutely. You always were. Now what do you say we go back downstairs to have a drink?"

They wind up in what used to be the smoking room, sitting on the floor with a pizza and a six pack.

The first drink goes down like butter, releasing all the tension Sonny has in his gut. The pizza is even more delicious, which prompts Sonny to chalk whatever the hell he's been experiencing as just hunger and fatigue.

"You honestly expect to keep living like this for much longer, or are you actually planning on buying some furniture?"

"Don't need any." Sonny takes another sip from his beer. "Not right this second, anyway. I want to keep this place stripped bare for a while. I've already got stuff for the bedroom. Might find a table for the kitchen. If I buy anything else now, it'll just get in the way while I'm working."

Chad surveys the room, "In this state, you're gonna be crippled for life by the time you're finished."

"Actually it's mostly touch ups. Last owners had an awesome head start on the big stuff, or so I'm told. Had the idea to turn it into a bed and breakfast or something like that. Poured six whole months into it before walking away. Which I'm pretty sure is code for they went broke."

Chad raises his eyebrows at that, tracing a finger on the floor, looking at the dust on his fingertip. "If only you could sell the dust in here. You'd be swimming in money."

But then, "Oh! Right. You already are. How are Adrienne and Justin doing, anyway?"

"Same as they ever are."

"Bet I can picture them now, thinking, 'Sonny's gone loco'" Chad makes the universal sign for cuckoo. "He's completely lost his mind."

"Of course. And they're probably not wrong, either, but at least it's finally my own mind to lose. If I had to sit in on one more meeting, be on a conference call or negotiate one more deal, I swear I would've jumped in the river and let myself drown."

"Titan Industries was your downfall, Sonny." Chad wipes some pizza sauce off of his fingers. "You should've deviated and gotten your own business, and made me your partner. Definitely less pressure. Say the word, and I'll find a storefront for you to get started as soon as tomorrow."

"I appreciate that, I really do, but we both know you love being the CEO."

"I do. I really, really do. All the paperwork, the formal dinners, the hard negotiations, the lingo. I love every single second." Chad shakes his head, sipping his beer. "But you never really did."

"No, I didn't."

"All those years you sunk into a business degree at Salem U, gone up in smoke. How close did I get?"

"That, and then some."

"Well they're wrong, and you know it. You're not letting anything go up in smoke. You're just going in a different direction than you thought. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. You're in Salem. We'll have you integrated back into the swing of things before you know it."

"Right, like that'll ever happen."

"You just make sure to come to Chicago once you're all settled in. Me and Abi will take you out for a meal. She's dying to see you."

By now, Chad had pulled off his tie and and thrown off his blazer. Besides the hair, Sonny thinks, he doesn't look any different from their glory days at Salem U.

"I still can't believe it. You're really getting married."

Chad sighs, "21st of February, circumstances be damned. I'm finally settling down, Sonny. She's everything I've ever wanted."

"Head of PR." It still baffles Sonny. "You and the head of PR."

"And she's the most beautiful head of PR I've ever laid eyes on. She's crazy smart too, and to top it off, I'm head over heels in love, Sonny. I'm crazy for her."

"And I couldn't be happier for you."

"You still feeling guilty over...what was his name again?"

"Paul." Sonny winces, taking another sip to get the bitter taste of Paul's name out of his mouth. "Breaking up with an ex because he wouldn't come out of the closet for you or marry you is bound to come with its own brand of guilt."

Chad shrugs in acknowledgement, "Maybe. But it would've been worse if you'd stayed with him anyway."

"Right?" But he can't stop himself from brooding over it as he stares at his beer bottle. "But what I really think he should've done is said yes, then come out, then dump me." The thought still makes him shudder. "It's not like what we did was any better. He's seeing the bellhop over at the Salem Inn."

"Bellhop... bellhop...the guy that doubles as a PI, or the one that lives at the hotel?"

"Neither." Sonny's mouth almost twitches in a smile. Man, he'd missed this more than he thought. "Derrick is the golden boy. The one that looks like he shouldn't be working there."

"Tall guy, strong jaw, slight accent?"

"That's the one, but his jaw isn't so chiseled anymore. And according to friends, it's getting serious, which is the punishment I deserve, or so I'm told."

"Then let one of them marry Paul."

"That's what I said." Sonny replies, gesturing with the bottle. "They literally went AWOL on me for two weeks because of that. Which, if I'm being honest, left me relieved. Not exactly popular with the Kiriakises at the moment."

"Well you know what I say? Given what's going on right now, and everything else...who cares?"

Sonny laughs, then holds out his beer for a toast, "I'll drink to that."

He grabs another piece of pizza. "Got another question for you about this place. Did some research on it, way back right after we broke in the first time."

"Marching around like we had a clue what we were doing."

"Which we might just do again if we keep slamming down these beers. Anyway, I know it was built in the 20s--after it burned down in some freak fire, which may or may not have had something to do with a rival family. But regardless, the DiMeras scooped this place up super cheap, according to records, and made the structure what it is now. They ran DiMera Enterprises and at one point was considered Titan's rival. They thrived for decades. There were two sons, both of which died young, then the father died and the wide was stubborn till the bitter end, when she had a stroke in her sleep. With no one to pass everything onto. There was a grandson, but he was cut out of the will. So the place went to auction, and it's gone from buyer to buyer ever since. Almost always as empty as it is now."

"Okay, so?"

Sonny leans forward, "Is it possible it's haunted?"

Chad says nothing as he grabs the last piece of pizza. "You gave me that whole history lesson just so you could ask me that? You should've been a mystery novel writer. Of course it is." There's a spark in his eyes as he he takes a bite. "If a house that's been here this long isn't, there's something wrong here. That grandson you were talking about? He was a Grayson on his mom's side. I know that, as I'm a DiMera myself, and close with the Hortons. If I remember, the kid was raised by his mom's parents after she took of with some guy, or so I'm told. Don't remember reading anything about his dad, but I'm sure plenty of people in town will know if you ask. What I do know is Gino DiMera, his wife Adelaide and their son--damnit, can't remember his name--all died in this house. If one of them isn't haunting this mansion, they very well should be."

"What did they die from? Natural causes?"

Chad frowns in curiosity, "That's the official story. Why?"

Sonny shakes off a sudden chill before answering, "I dunno. Just a gut feeling."

"Want someone to bless the house? Some hoodoo, an exorcism, or even pull out a Ouija board to talk to them yourself? There's got to be at least one psychic skulking around here."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"Let me know if you change your mind." Chad winks. "I know somebody who will really give you a good show."

He doesn't want a show, Sonny decides later. What he does want right now is that shower, then to finally turn in for the night. With the warmth of the beer running through his veins, he brings his boxes inside, going through them to find bedsheets and towels. After finding what he thinks he'll need, he takes them upstairs with him.

It's pure guilt that has him making the bed properly, rather than a need for cleanliness. He lets himself have ten glorious minutes under the shower spray, before getting out and falling asleep to the pitter patter of rain outside.

He finally falls asleep 30 seconds later.

A baby's crying. It should strike him odd, but it doesn't. It was in a baby's nature to cry in the middle of the night, or whenever they were inconvenienced by something. In this case, it sounds more like it's more annoyed than in any actual trouble.

Someone should go pick it up and...do something. Feed it. Change its diaper. Rock it back to sleep.

Whenever he'd woken up as a kid, either his mom or sometimes even his dad would come sit with him until whatever nightmare playing out in his head had passed.

This baby isn't scared. It's hungry.

Once again, that should strike him odd how he's thinking that. How he knows that. And once again, it doesn't.

What does strike him just a little odd, however, is waking up covered in sweat, standing outside the makeshift nursery.


	5. Love and Great Buildings

Sleepwalking. Something Sonny hasn't done since he was a kid. But in the early morning, it's pretty obvious how it happened/ Beer, pizza, and talk about ghosts.

What wasn't as obvious to decipher was the outright fear and terror he feels in his gut when he and found himself outside that door. Sonny finally snaps out of it, only to go straight into panic mode-one caused by the undeniable certainty that he's hearing the silent echoes of a baby crying.

So he runs. There's no one on this planet that can ever get him to open that door now, so he runs, chased by his own fear, back to his bedroom and locks the door. Like someone fresh out of the sanitarium, he thinks now as he sips his lukewarm coffee.

At least this time it happened in the privacy of his own house.

But if you really want to nitpick it, that first night literally couldn't have gone any better than it had. A few chills, ghosts of crying babies, sleepwalking. Much better than his empty apartment in Chicago, still on the phone about something Titan related.

Maybe his next plan should be to keep digging about the history of this place. His place, he corrects himself, leaning on the wet rail of the gallery outside his room.

Sonny's view. And it truly is beautiful once you manage to overlook the gardens.

Raindrops fall from leaves methodically, the air shimmering from the heaviness of yesterday's storm. A low mist covers the ground, like a light fog wrapping itself around the trees to make them look romantic and mysterious.

If he's lucky enough to get the sun to shine down, it would truly make the place look magical, but it's nothing to get worked up about at the moment.

There's a small pond covered in small lily pads, along with some open fields. Some already plowed, others already planted for a spring that's promised to come earlier here in Salem. He could see the river that cuts its way through the backside of the town.

A still well maintained pier pokes out from the water, then an archway that leads the townsfolk back into town, unseen from the mansion.

He'd already seen the belvedere earlier this morning, and had been overjoyed to find everything including it in almost perfect repair. The last owners had taken good care of it, as well as the gallery he's standing in before they'd finally given up.

It looks like they might've started on the back gallery too, had started the preparations of turning it into a porch.

Which actually sounds like a pretty good idea. He'll have to think about it.

Sonny isn't entirely sure if it was the lack of funds, motivation, or both, but he calls it his gain.

He's got more money than he knows what to do with, and right now, as he watches the steam rising above the plants and water, more than enough energy.

He lifts his coffee to his mouth, then lowers it again a he sees a man-a boy?--slip past the trees towards the river.

He's too far away for Sonny to make out any identifying features. He can see he's wearing red flannel and jeans, and his hair is short and blonde and puffy. Is he old? He wonders. Younger? Handsome, or ordinary.

He decides on young and handsome. It's his call, after all.

He tosses a ball in the air, catching it and tossing it back and forth in his hands, only stopping when he accidentally drops it. Then he rears back like he's a pitcher winding up for the pitch (Paul used to throw like that, Sonny can't help but think.), then lets it take off like a bullet right out of his hand and landing right in the pond.

Nice toss, Sonny thinks, and smiles as he watches the guy pump his fist.

He wishes he could hear him. He's pretty sure the guy's laughing, just a low, lighthearted chuckle.

He has to be soaked, when he wades in for the ball and back out, but he doesn't sigh or groan once he sees the mud on his jeans. Instead, he repeats the routine several times, with Sonny as his one person audience.

He imagines him walking closer to the mansion. Close enough to where he could give a friendly wave from the gallery, even invite him in for a cup of his weak coffee. First shot at him proving chivalry isn't dead.

Or even better, he could come down there himself, and the guy would be getting ready to throw the ball again. He'd slip on the wet grass, and fall right into the pond. He'd swoop in to save the day anjd pull him out. No, to jump in after him and save him because he can't swim.

Then one thing would lead to another, then they'd have sex right there in the geass, in the faded sunlight. His body, wet and slippery, would be on top of him, and his hands would hold his hips…

"What the hell?" he blinks, right as he sees the guy disappearing into the trees again.

He doesn't know whether to be embarrassed or relieved to realize he just made himself hard. In the months since he and Paul had broken up, he'd only had sex once. And that was more about getting himself off than it was about any actual attraction.

So if if he actually managed to arouse himself with a fantasy of a man whose face he's never even seen, it's safe to say he's slowly getting back to his old self.

He tosses the last of his now cold coffee away. A random sex fantasy isn't the worst way to start off, but bad coffee definitely is. Time to get to work.

He goes back in, grabbing his wallet and keys, before driving into town for more supplies.

He's gone most of the day before he finally comes back, not just for the supplies, but to refamiliarize himself with his hometown.

If Chicago is the wife with dark secrets, Salem is the mistress with a heart of gold.

He treats himself to a big breakfast, with so much grease and fat, he can imagine himself having a heart attack from the shock alone.

He buys good coffee beans and a grinder, bagels and doughnuts. He stocks up on frozen dinners, along with a frozen pizza and cereal. Then he's off to the liquor store for beer, whiskey and a good bottle of wine.

He loads everything into his car, then drives to yet another place to stock up, for both utensils as well as the nostalgia. He decides to go for paper plates and plastic utensils, and stops to watch a street musician pull out his violin, then fill the square with music.

Sonny gets to be the one to give her her first dollar of the day.

He decides to pass on the antique shops for the time being. It's lunchtime, as demonstrated by all the incredible smells from several restaurants. He buys himself a cold cut sandwich to take back with him for later.

As he walks back to his car, he notices several tourists carrying bags from one shop or another, fortune tellers reading their cards at tables all around the perimeter of Horton Town Square, who could tell you your fortune for 12 bucks. He catches the faint smell of weed under the smell of trash as he walks past an alley, and sees someone smoking a joint on a balcony above a shop that sells candles.

Sonny buys one for Chad of a naked woman with cone shaped breasts, smiling over it as he takes it back to the car.

He's fully energized the entire drive home. He hauls his supplies inside, stuffing them wherever seems appropriate at the moment, then inspects every room one by one on the ground floor. He takes notes on any problems he finds, as well as anything that could potentially be a problem and things he needs to make top priority.

An obvious first is the kitchen. The work on his own place in Chicago and assisting with two other remodels for friends was all the experience he needed to know that.

Other than an occasional omelet or some toast, he doesn't cook much, but as far as he's concerned, a kitchen's really what makes a home, well, a home. The latest remodel of the DiMera mansion kitchen took place somewhere in the early 80's, white and chrome with a slab on the kitchen island and flooring so white, it nearly blinds him to look at it.

The good parts were taken up by the windows, old and still intact brick oven and decorated ceiling. He's in love with the huge pantry, but he wonders if it would be better suited as a mudroom. He'll hack it down to the original wood flooring, peel off the tacky wallpaper, and take out the island altogether and just put in some sort of antique table.

An interior decorator, he was not. It wasn't something he and Paul ever had to deal with, going from hotel to hotel room so they wouldn't get caught.

But now that he's thinking about it, maybe it would look better with strong colors and fanciful charm. He likes all the bells and whistles. Damnit, it's his mansion, and he's gonna do it his way. Head to toe.

He'll put in some cabinets with glass fronts so he can display the old appliances. Cracked, non matching dishes, bottles and jars with who knows what in them. Just a big cluttered mess.

The countertops are good and solid, and the faucets are made of copper. He doesn't care if they're tarnished. Part of the antique charm.

Ginormous fridge. High end dishwasher and stove. All with scratched up wood.

Now this is more like it.

Sonny takes thousands more notes, measuring and remeasuring. He pulls out his history books and reads them cover to cover, sitting on the floor in the empty library while eating the sandwich he bought earlier and drank so much coffee to where he can feel his ears ringing.

He can see it so clearly. Floor to ceiling shelves bursting at the seams with books, deep green walls and soft cream for the plaster ceiling and trim. Thick gold candlesticks on the mantel. He'll need to have the chimneys checked by a professional so he can start using the fireplace, get rid of the chilly nights spent here.

The trim will be restored only where needed, smooth like butter. The doors separating the men's and the women's quarters were in pristine shape.

Someone at some point had taken care of the flooring in the library.

He crawls on his hand and knees, touching the wood as he goes. Just sand it down, slap some varnish, and it's all set. The rugs did a fantastic job protecting it--imported from Paris.

He smells whiskey and leather, beeswax and flowers, but doesn't dwell on it. His eyes are bleary and out of sorts when he stops at the hearth, flicking a thumb on the chip. He'll have to replace it, or if he can't find a match, just round it off. Hand painted and glazed in Italy, and cost a pretty penny.

Santo had knocked a candlestick off the mantel, causing the tile to chip. Drunk and raging.


	6. After You

_Santo had knocked a candlestick off the mantel, causing the tile to chip. Drunk and raging._

Sonny's phone goes off right then, startling the crap out of him. Blinking rapidly, disoriented, he looks around the empty room. What is he doing? Just thinking? He looks at his thumb, only to see it's been rubbed raw on the chipped tile. Displaced, he fishes out his phone.

"Hello?"

"And he rises! Thought you were never gonna answer." Chad's friendly voice scrambles in Sonny's mind as Sonny keeps looking at that chipped tile. He was thinking about the tile. Something about…

"Just, uh, doing an inspection. Measuring...things."

"Why don't you get away from there for a bit? I have a late meeting, but you can still meet me later for a drink. Abi, too, if she can be persuaded."

"What time is it?" Sonny pulls his phone away from his ear to check. "Midnight? How the hell is it midnight?"

"No, not yet. You hitting the bottle already?"

"Not at all. Just coffee." He frowns at his phone, smacking the screen. "Must be something screwy with this phone."

"It's only a little after six. I should be out by 9. Why don't you come? I'll meet you at Doug's place, downtown."

"Sure." Absentmindedly, he runs his hand through his hair, only to find his forehead damp with sweat. "Sure, that sounds good."

"Need directions, Magellan?"

"I'm sure I can manage." He rubs his pulsing thumb. "Chad?"

"That's me. Don't wear it out."

Sonny shakes his head, laughing at himself. "Nevermind. See you later."

He drives in early, not because he was in the mood to drink, but to see how Salem came to life at night. The streets twinkled with fairy lights, filled with crowds of people who keep coming at him, looking to be entertained.

In Sonny's humble opinion, it's not the people passing through or the shopkeepers that were pulling the strings. It's the town of Salem itself. And music is the strings.

It comes from every nook and cranny, from alt rock to classical. Up above, outdoor balconies were stuffed with diners who beat the winter chill with booze and spicy condiments.

But music is really what keeps it all running like a well oiled machine.

He drenches himself in it as he walks through Horton Town Square, past open doors and lights, and unexpected potholes. He narrowly manages to avoid a group of men gossiping like a knitting circle.

He catches their scent--flowers and sweets--and feels the expected flattery and panic when they laugh.

"Nice ass." one of them calls out, but Sonny chooses to keep walking.

A group of gay men like that were even more dangerous and myeterious than women.

It suddenly occurs to him that if he's gonna meet Abi, he should bring her something. An engagement gift, even. He has no idea what she likes, or anything about her. But if he has nothing else going for him, he is an awesome gift giver.

Kicking himself for not thinking of it earlier, he pokes around in a few shops with no luck. Pretty much everything is aimed at tourists, and he's almost positive a wind up vibrator was not the best way to make a good first impression. A gift can wait, he debates, or he can just buy the default gift of a basket full of creams and lotions.

Which is right when he sees it. A silver phoenix, wings outstretched like its seconds away from taking flight. It has an elegance to it, as well as a fierce look in its eyes that immediately reminds him of Chad.

If Abi's actually fallen for his best friend from college, she has to appreciate a little sentiment from time to time. He has it gift wrapped carefully with a bow on top.

It still just before 9 when he's outside Doug's. He's ready to sit in the bar, away from the center of the Square. Maybe listen to music while he nurses a beer. For the next handful of weeks, he's gonna have to play by the rules. Spend his daylight hours ripping apart the kitchen, and his night hours planning out his next move. He needs to track down specific technicians, get bids so he can really get started.

But tonight, he's spending it with friends, then go straight home and get his 8 hours in.

He spots the front door for Doug's. Hard to miss, as a cool blue light shines through the glass door almost hidden from the street.

Sonny opens the door to a blast of smooth jazz, the smell of whiskey and food.

On the stage is a piano, the pianist playing the tune as one couple dances slowly.

In the dim light, he can see that there isn't any booths free, so he turns towards the bar. The wood is cherry colored, and it shines. A dozen stools are clustered together, so Sonny's quick to grab the last available one before someone else could snatch it up.

Bottles litter the shelves behind the bar, complemented by salt and pepper shakers of all different shapes. A bride and groom, a pair of dachshunds, yin and yang, a cowboy hat and boots, a mouse and cheese.

He contemplates them, wondering what kind of person would collect and display such things, and decides it's just another side effect from being away for so long.

Onstage, the pianist starts to sing, in a sultry voice that for whatever reason is pleasing to his ears. Tapping his foot, Sonny turns his attention toward the end of the bar. The bartender has short brown hair, along with a chiseled jaw that looks like it could've been carved only from the finest marble, with hands that move with the elegance of a maestro as he pours from the tap and fills shot glasses.

He starts to raise a hand to call the bartender over, before that guy walks out of the door behind the bar. Later, when he's able to think more coherently, he'll describe it as feeling like he got slammed in the chest by a bus. Not exactly making his heart stop, but definitely restarting it. His heart, his bones, every cell of his body, even in the deep recesses of his mind. Everything goes from smooth sailing to hitting the iceberg in that one instance.

It's you! Something in his mind calls out. It's really you!

He can hear his heart pounding like the beat of a steel drum that's literally so loud, he can't even hear the music anymore, or the other patrons. His entire focus goes straight to him, like a spotlight on the stage.

He's not exactly gorgeous, not in the way you'd expect. But what he is, is extraordinary.

His hair is spun gold, pouffy locks that cling to his head. His face is doe eyed innocent-- the adorable button nose, the subtle baby face, the soft chin. His eyes are kind and heartbreaking, his mouth wide, painted with only the slightest bit of chapstick.

It doesn't quite work, he thinks as his mind wracks itself. All those things shouldn't all work together like that, but on him, they're perfect. Unique, sexy, sublime.

He was slightly taller than him, with an almost dainty build, and wears a tight v neck shirt the color of snow that shows off the muscles in his arms, the slight hint of his pecs. Tucked into his v neck was a silver chain with a key.

His skin was slightly pale, and his eyes, when they catch his, the grayish blue of the ocean.

Those soft pink lips tart to twitch--a small, knowing smile as he walks over, leaning on the bar so they're close enough to where he can see a freckle on his chest. Close enough to where he can smell something fruity, he almost wants to dive headfirst into it.

"What can I get you?"

How about you, he thinks. That would be a good start.

But all he says is, "uh…" He cocks his head to the side, staring at him curiously as he gives him a once over. He asks again, in that easy voice of his, "You want a drink? Or...maybe some food?"

"I uh…" He wants to kiss those soft lips, devour them whole. "Just a Sam Adams."

He watches him as he grabs the bottle, grabbing a bowl of pretzel sticks. He walks like you'd expect a server to, confident and slightly mysterious. He can literally feel his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

"You want to start a tab while you're at it?"

"Uh." Jesus, Kiriakis, snap out of it. "Yeah, sure. What's that for?" When he looks at him confused, he grabs the bottle. "The key?"

"Oh, you mean this?" He reaches down, grabbing the key with the tips of his fingers, making Sonny's heart pound even faster. "The secrets of the universe. What else could it be?"

Sonny reaches out a hand to gently grab his. All he knows is if he doesn't touch him right this second, he's scared he's going to turn into a sobbing mess. "I'm Sonny."

"Is that so?" The guy doesn't pull his hand away. "Interesting. Little different."

"it's...Greek."

"Mmm." He turns over Sonny's hand, leaning down like palm reader. "What's this? You lived in Salem before, but you're hoping this time is permanent. Got yourself out of the busy bustling city, didn't you, Sonny?"

"Yeah. Guess it's a little obvious, huh?"

The guy looks up again, and this time Sonny would swear on his life his heart actually does skip a beat. "I'll tell you what else is obvious. Rich boy down from Chicago. You're the guy that bought the DiMera mansion."

"Have we met before?" He knew he felt something--like an end of a string tied to another--when he first touched him. "Do we already know each other?"

"Not in this lifetime, I'm afraid." He gives Sonny a friendly pat on the shoulder, then moves further down the bar to take care of the other customers.


	7. Till I Dance With You Again

He keeps an eye on Sonny, even as he moves onto other customers. Whatever he was picturing based off of how Chad described him, this wasn't it. But he couldn't say exactly what he was expecting, either. He really, really doesn't like surprises. And the guy sitting in Doug's place, sitting at the bar, watching him from the corner of his dark eyes, looks like he's chock full of them.

He decided he likes those eyes. He's used to guys openly gawking at him, but the way Sonny's doing it is something else altogether. A feather light touch to the skin that was both sweet and made him feel good.

And he's not about to complain about having a guy who looks like he could handle anything you throw in his path, and yet still look like a complete idiot when you look back.

Though he's barely touched his drink, He somehow finds his way back to Sonny, tapping the bottle, "Need another one?"

"Thanks, but no. Would you mind taking a break? Could I buy you a drink? Or maybe just a coffee, a bike, even a pet?"

"What's in the bag?"

Sonny looks at the small gift bag he'd set on the bar. "Just something for someone I'm supposed to be meeting."

"You buy gifts for a lot of people, Sonny?"

"She's not a person. I mean, not my person. Actually, I don't really have one--it's...damnit, I'm supposed to be better at this."

"What?"

"At flirting."

He laughs--the lighthearted joyous sound in his dreams.

"But really, can you take a break? We can just make someone move and hopefully you give me another chance?"

"Well, actually, I was gonna say you're still doing pretty okay with the first one. But I'm co owner, so I don't get breaks."

"You're the co owner?"

"Yep." He turns as one of the other servers comes back to the bar with a tray.

'Wait, please." Sonny reaches for his hand again. "I don't even know your name. Can you tell me."

"William." He says quietly. "But everyone just calls me Will, cause a prince I am not." Will traces a finger down his face, then steps away to fill more orders.

Sonny takes a deep, long pull of his beer to chase down all the saliva that decided to make a guest appearance in his mouth.

He's still trying to think of something else as when Chad claps him on the back. "We're gonna need a table."

"I'm liking the view from here."

Chad follows Sonny's gaze, then says, "Best in town. So you've met Abi's cousin Will?"

"Cousin?"

"Yeah. Will Horton, descendant of the Hortons the square is named after. And here's Abigail Devereaux. Abi, this is my best friend Sonny Kiriakis."

"Hi, Sonny." She scoots between him and Chad, kissing Sonny on the cheek. "Nice to finally meet you!"

She has long dark hair surrounding a heart shaped face, eyes of a bitter chocolate bar.

She looks like she could've been the prom queen back in high school.

"You're way too good to be settling for this guy." Sonny jokes. "Why not go for a guy like me?"

"Promise?"

With a snort, Sonny slides off the stool and kisses her back. "You did good, Chad."

"Best I've ever done." Chad kisses the top of Abi's head. "Have a seat, sweetheart. Place is crowded. Bar's probably the best option. Want a glass of wine?"

"White wine sounds good."

"How about you, Sonny? Want a refill?"

"I'll get it myself. I'm buying anyway."

"Well, in that case, get Abi here the good chardonnay. I'll just have whatever you're having."

"Look what the wind blew my way." Will smiles at Chad. "Hey, Abi. What's everyone having?"

"Chardonnay for the lady. And two more Sam Adams." Sonny tells him. "Then you can call 911. Cause I swear I have a heart attack just looking at you."

"Your college buddy turns into such a lush one he's started imbibing, Chad." Will takes a bottle of wine out of the cooler.

"Should've seen them at Salem U. The baby gays didn't stand a chance."

"Guess us mature gays are too experienced to fall for it." Will pours the wine refilling the bowl of pretzel sticks.

"Wait, I do know you." It finally comes to him. "I saw you just this morning, tossing a ball. Throwing it in the pond."

"Baseball." It's a shock to the system to know Sonny had been watching him. "My grandma Marlena gave it to me. She doesn't live far from the pier. Sometimes i crash at her place if she's not doing too god. Or just wants some company."

"Stop by the mansion next chance you get. I'll even give you the grand tour."

"Might just take you up on it. I've actually never been." He wipes down the table. "You want some actual food too?"

"Need to think on that one." Chad says.

"Let me know." He turns and goes back through the back door.

"You catch more flies with honey, Son." Chad squeezes Sonny's shoulder. "God, you're a pain in the ass."

"Aw, be nice to him, Chad. If a gay guy doesn't do a double take at Will, there's something wrong with them."

"Okay, now you have to runaway with me and be my beard." Sonny decides. "But until then, Congratulations." He pushes the gift bag towards her.

"You got me something? You're so sweet!" She digs into it excitedly in a way that makes Sonny smile. And when she holds up the phoenix, she stops to study it. Then gives him the biggest smile. "It's just like Chad. Check it out, babe. It's got your intense gaze."

"I don't see it."

"I do, and so did Sonny." She turns around in her stool, beaming. "I've just decided I like you. And I'm so glad I do. I love this idiot over here so much I just wanna burst, I'd say that even if I didn't, and just fake it. But I don;t need to fake it."

"Aw, don;t get all weepy on me now, Abi." Chad holds out a napkin as she sniffles. "She cries when she's happy. The night i proposed, she couldn't say yes for ten whole minutes cause she was crying so hard."

Then Chad pulls her to her feet. "Come on, hon. Let's dance until you're all dried up."

Sonny gets back on his stool, picking up his beer and watches them dance.

"They're so cute together." Will comments from behind him.

"They really do. Wanna see if the same thing applies to us?"

"You don't give up easily, do you?" Will sighs. "What kind of car?"

"Excuse me?"

"You offered to buy me a drink, coffee, car or a pet. In that order. I can easily pay for my own drinks or coffee. Not interested in having a pet. And I suppose a car too. But I just decided having two cars isn't so crazy after all. So what kind of car are you offering?"

"Any car you want."

"I'll get back to you." Is Will's only reply, then once again moves away to fill orders.


	8. Dig a Little Deeper

He works non-stop for 3 days straight. Very little, Sonny thinks, compares to the satisfaction of pulling something apart. Not even putting it back together could even come close.

He tears apart the kitchen, pulling out the island by the roots, along with the counters and cabinets. He uses steam to peel off the wallpaper, gets rid of the linoleum.

When it's all out, it's just a shell of wood and plaster, and so many different possibilities.

At night, he cleaned his blisters and relaxed his muscles, looking through books for inspiration.

Every morning without fail, before the day officially starts, he takes his first cup of coffee of the day out on the veranda, hoping to catch another glimpse of Will and the baseball he'd gotten from his grandmother.

He contacts contractors, orders materials, and in his frenzy, actually buys a pickup truck right off of the lot.

The first night he's able to use the fireplace in the sitting room, he makes himself a toast, with a glass of rose wine.

The sleepwalking hasn't happened again, but the dreams still are. Problem is by the time he's awake, all he remembers is fragments. Music--that same little earworm that just won't leave him alone. Or shouting.

One time he'd dreamt about having sex, a sigh of content, the natural rythm of a body connecting with his, the need bubbling up like a shaken soda can.

He woke up with his muscles twitching and the smell of roses only just fading.

Since that dream seems to be his only outlet, he puts the rest of his energy into the work.

When he lets himself take a break, it was to pay a special visit with a bouquet.

The apartment was fairly large, but when he knocks on the door, he's surprised.

The woman that answers is younger than he was expecting. She had to be somewhere in her 70s, and has the same build as her grandson, same softness to her face that hasn't disappeared with age. Her hair is blond, worn in waves on her shoulders.

She wears a pantsuit that fits her body fairly well. A pair of heels covers her feet. He watches as she puts her hands on her hips.

"I like you already, so I opened the door."

"What if you didn't?"

She smiles, a small smile that almost goes unnoticed, "What do you think?"

"Then I guess I'm glad you like me. I'm Jackson Kiriakis. You can call me Sonny, Ms. Evans. I bought the DiMera mansion."

"I already know who you are. Come inside and have a seat." She steps back, opening the door wider.

Sonny walks into the living room, "It's really nice to meet you, Ms. Evans."

She watches him, a very cautious and cagey stare, "You're pretty good looking."

"Thank you." He holds out the flowers. "So are you."

She takes the flowers, an amused look on her face, "Mr. Kiriakis, are you flirting with me?"

"You a good cook?"

That gets her to laugh, and can't help but love it. "I just made some madeleines. Come see for yourself."

She leads the way, straight through to the kitchen, he catches glimpses of the living room, of a bedroom or two, even what looks like an office.

He smells polish and perfume, then when he finally reaches the kitchen, the sweet scent of baking.

"Just so you know, I'm 29 years old, a huge financial asset, and have a clean bill of health from my last physical. I'm not a smoker, I only drink in moderation, and I'm not even close to a snob. If you marry me, I'd pamper you like a princess."

She laughs, shaking her head as he gestures to the table. "Have a seat and stretch your legs so you don't trip me. And since you're here, you can just call me Marlena."

She uncovers a plate covered in madeleines, then carries them over to the table, while Sonny stares out the kitchen window.

"Wowsers. How can you get anything done with a view like this?"

"It's definitely one of my favorite spots." She reaches into the fridge for a pitcher of lemonade. "My family's been here longer than I've been alive."

She sets down both the plate and a glass in front of him. "Enjoy. What about your family?"

"My uncle's the one behind Titan Industries. Actually, now my best friend's the CEO."

"You too?" She takes out a vase as Sonny takes a bite of one of the madeleines.

"Kind of. By the way, these are delicious, Marlena."

"Baking is the only cooking I can really do. I like pansies." She adds as she puts them in the vase filled with water. "They look so happy."

Marlena puts the vase in the center of the table, then sits down next to Sonny. "So tell me. What're you planning on doing with a place like the DiMera mansion, Sonny Kiriakis?"

"Plenty of stuff. Restore it to its former glory, as much as humanly possible."

"And after that?"

"No idea. Live there?"

She picks up a madeleine of her own. She already decided she likes him--the messy dark hair, the brown eyes in a kind face. And his manners were formal but friendly.

Now's her chance to see if he really has guts.

"Why?"

"Not sure on that one either, besides wanting it the moment I saw it."

"And does the mansion like you back?"

"I think it's still deciding. You ever been?"

"Mhm." she nods. "A long time ago. Pretty big house for one young man. You have someone back in Chicago?"

"No, ma'am, I do not."

"Handsome guy in his late 20s, and don't have someone? Are you gay?"

Well. That's definitely not something Sonny was expecting to divulge so soon. "Yes, ma'am." But he just smiles as he sips his lemonade. "I do like guys. But haven't found the right guy as of yet."

But if Marlena is surprised by his coming out, she doesn't show it. Instead, she says,

"Show me your hands." She takes one in both of hers, turning it over. "Still have traces of the city on you, but you're already working on fixing that." She brushes a thumb on the blisters and the cuts. "I have some antibiotic ointment you can use. That'll help to keep these from getting worse. You've got a strong mind, Sonny. Strong enough to where you literally uprooted your entire life. Paved your own way. And you didn't love him."

"Excuse me?"

"The man." Marlena traces a fingernail over the side of the palm of his hand. "The one you walked away from. He wasn't the one."

Frowning, Sonny leans in, staring at his hand alongside her. "You can see Paul?" That's definitely intriguing. "Does he end up with Derrick?"

"Why does it matter? He didn't love you either."

"Ouch." Is all he says, laughing a little.

"But love is on its way. The kind that will take your breath away. Which you definitely need."

Though she keeps brushing his palm with her thumb, she turns her gaze towards his.

Then her eyes deepen, like she's suddenly seeing something new.

"You have quite a strong connection to the DiMera mansion. A very old, strong connection. Death and life. Blood and heartbreak. Laughter, if you're smart. You're definitely a smart young man, Sonny. Use that to your advantage, you might be able to find yourself. You're not the only one in that mansion."

"You're not the only one in that mansion."

Sonny almost chokes from how dry his throat has suddenly become, but he doesn't reach for his lemonade. He doesn't even twitch. "It's haunted, isn't it?"

"Whatever is going on in that place is what's stopped everyone else from finishing the work. They'll say excuses like the money, time, or something similar, but whatever is happening is he real reason. It's been waiting for you to come back."

The thought sends a shudder down Sonny's spine. "Why me?"

"That you'll have to figure out on your own." Marlena squeezes his hand again, before letting go and picking up her own lemonade.

He clenches his hand into a loose fist, palm tingling. "Are you some kind of psychic or something?"

With an amused smile, Marlena gets up to bring the pitcher to the table. "Only now and again." She refills their glasses, taking note of how his eyes are fixated on the necklace around her neck. "What? You think this makes me a hypocrite? Who do you think gave me the gift in the first place?"

"I've actually never even thought about it."

"If we don't use our gifts, they're just going to waste." She turns her head, and Sonny can see she's wearing earrings as well. Tiny dewdrop sized pearls attached to her earlobes. "I heard you called someone about working on the plumbing at your mansion."

"Uh…" Sonny struggles to move away from his fantasy into the practical world, while his hand keeps tingling from where she touched his hand. "Yeah. My best friend, Chad DiMera, actually recommended the guy."

"That Chad." Her face lights up, and whatever mysterious aura had been surrounding her has now disappeared. "He's a good man. If he's recommending someone, he'll definitely do right by you and for a good price. And i he doesn't tell him Marlena is going to ask why."

"Thank you, I really appreciate that. You wouldn't know someone who works in plaster, do you? Someone known for working in the fancy stuff?"

"I'll find a name for you. But it's gonna cost you an arm and a leg to restore the place and make sure it stays restored."

"I've got two arms and two legs. And I'd really love it if you'd stop by so I can show you the place. I can't make any madeleines half as good as yours, but I think I can handle lemonade."

"Such a well mannered young man. Whoever your mother is, she did right by you."

"Could you tell her that to her face, and let me videotape it?"

"I think I'm going to enjoy having you in Salem." Marlena decides. "You can stop by whenever you like."

"Thank you, Marlena." Taking this as his cue to leave, he stands up from the table. "I think I'm going to like it here too."

The sun shines across her face as she looks at him. The angle, combined with the amused look in her eyes and the knowing smile, sends him back to the bar in Doug's. "He looks so much like you."

"Yes he does. You've already got your sights my grandson, don't you?"

Sonny flinches once he realizes he said that out loud, so he tries to cover with a smile. "Well, we've already established I'm gay, didn't we?"

Marlena laughs as she stands up from the table. "I think you and me will get along just fine, Sonny."

And he likes her right back. Enough to where he actually decides to buy a few chairs so when she visits, she'll have somewhere to sit. He'll go out and look on Saturday, he thinks as goes back to prepping the kitchen walls. He'll go in the afternoon, before he's supposed to have dinner with Chad and Abi.

And then, he'd top the evening off with a drink at Doug's.

And if Will's not working, he'll just walk out and walk right in front of a passing car.


	9. Let Me Out of This Dream

Sonny works well into the night, then rewards himself to a beer with a TV dinner. He eats sitting on a sawhorse and admiring his work.

The walls have officially been stripped, fixed and prepped for painting. The marks he made with a pencil were for measurements for the cabinets he'd start building the next day. He'd even tried moving the bricks in the hearth, and he can honestly say he didn't do too bad of a job. The old flooring is now exposed and protected with drop cloths. He'd decided on arcade tile, and had marked spots for the stove and fridge.

If he couldn't find the right china cabinet for the wall, what the hell. He'll just build that himself too. He's already on a roll.

He carries a bottle of water upstairs, taking his usual 10 minute shower, then stretches out on his bed with his notes, drawings and books. At some point while he's moving around his plans for the main sitting room, he passes out.

And wakes up shivering, in pitch black. The baby woke him up again, the faint crying still in his ears as he sits straight up, heart pounding like a hammer to a gong.

He has no idea where he even is, other than the sudden realization he's on the floor instead of on the bed. And it's so cold, he can see his own breath in puffs.

He rolls over, getting on his feet. He reaches out blindly, fumbling around in the dark as he cautiously moves forward.

Lavender roses. Sonny shudders as he recognizes the scent. Now he knows where he is--in the room a few doors down from his. The one he'd gone out of his way to avoid for the past handful of days.

Except now he's actually here, Sonny thinks as he takes another cautious step. And he knows how crazy this might sound, but he just knows he's not alone.

"You can try and scare me all you want. I'm not going anywhere."

His fingers touch something real, making him yelp. He snatches his hand back immediately, right when it registers it's just a wall. Sonny takes several calming breaths, then feels his way alongside the wall, tripping over the trim, somehow avoiding stepping on glass. Somehow, he finds the doorknob to the veranda, and immediately turns it to fling the doors wide open.

The air in January feels warm against his shivering skin. He stumbles forward, steadying himself with the rail. The night is that of a dark cave.

Once his eyes adjust, he finally turns back around, and promptly pulls the doors to the room shut.

"This house is mine." Sonny says quietly, then walks down the veranda, opens the door to his bedroom, and goes back inside.

"Sleepwalking? Are you serious?" Chad scoops up another thing of rice on his fork.

"Yep. Happened a lot for 5 months straight when I was 12." Sonny shrugs, but couldn't fully shake the whole thing off.

He had no intention of even bringing it up, other than maybe an offhand comment. The dinner Abi had made in Chad's apartment is more than welcome, as is the company that comes with it. But somehow the conversation has segued from the progress he's making to his little walks of shame.

"That has to be scary." Aby says. "Waking up and not knowing where you are."

"Freaky at the very least. Only someone with my kind of luck could end up in the two rooms that just rub me the wrong way. No, I'm wrong. That actually makes sense. My subconscious is clearly telling me to get over it."

"Long as you don't wander outside." Chad tries to offer. "Last thing I want to hear is you sleepwalked right into the street."

"Thanks for that oh so helpful thought. Thanks a lot."

"Chad." Abi smacks him upside the head. "You should get your head examined." She tells Sonny. "They could prescribe something to help you sleep."

"Maybe. Only been in there a week, and so far it's only happened twice. And tranquilizers aren't going to make a ghost go away."

"You mean the drafts and the house settling?"

Chad smiles. "Abi here doesn't think ghosts are real."

"Or fortunetellers or witches or any kind of silly stuff like that." Her voice is firm, slightly defensive.

"My beautiful fiance here is a true believer of the black and white."

"She also has all the sense in this relationship." She snarks back. "Sonny, it's only natural you'd be feeling weird, being by yourself in a big abandoned mansion by yourself. And I'm guessing you're not exactly eating all your food groups either, are you? Stay with us for a while, until you're more adjusted.

"She won't even be here!" Chad interjects, jerking his head in Abi's direction.

"I told you I want to do this right. I'm not living with you until we're married, and that's that."

"Aw, come on! That's still so far away! I go crazy when I'm by myself." He takes her hand, kissing it as he speaks.

"Here's an idea. Come stay the night with me for a few weeks, Abi. Completely platonic, of course." Sonny says with a smile as Chad rolls his eyes. "I'll bet you anything you'll think differently about ghosts just staying there for two."

"Thanks but no thanks. I'm all about the city. What do you even do out there by yourself, Sonny, when you're not working?"

"Reading. Speaking of which, I need to stop by the library, see if I can dig up more about the DiMera mansion. I've tried my hand at the garden, too. Taking walks. Walking over to visit Marlena."

"You met Marlena?" Chad asks as he finishes off his meal. "She's really something, huh?"

"I really, really like her. Honestly, the work on the mansion is keeping me so busy, I'm not going over there till it's already pretty late. I finally hooked up a TV, and I don't even use it! But I did finally buy a table and chairs earlier today, among other things."

It's always a mistake, Sonny kicks himself, to let him anywhere near the entrance of an antique shop.

"We can't let you lock yourself away from the outside world and working yourself to death." Abi decides. "I fully expect you to come into the city and drop by at least once a week from here on out. And Chad, you're going out there on Sundays to and helping Sonny out. You spend all your time alone," She declares as she steps back from the table. "That's your real problem. Now who wants dessert?"

Maybe she's right, Sonny thinks as he looks for somewhere to park. If she's not, she's definitely certain. He can try and mix things up a little. He can drive into the city once or twice for real food. Maybe even invite Chad and Abi out for one-a very informal one.

He could spend one night reading something not research related.

No, he can do one better. He's gonna scape himself together and get himself past whatever it is stopping him from touching that one room.

He winds up parking a block and a half away from Doug's, but once he sets foot inside and sees Will behind the bar, he can safely say the short walk is worth it.

He doesn't manage to grab a stool this time, but he does manage to squeeze between some customers and and have a corner all to himself. The music is lively tonight, and so is the crowd.

There's two others behind the bar tonight besides the two co owners, all of them in a lively mood.

Will catches his eye as he serves two beers on tap and a gin and tonic.

"Sam Adams?"

"Make it a Pepsi."


	10. This Kiss

He's just as handsome as Sonny remembers. Exactly as handsome. He's wearing a blue shirt tonight--unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up. His lips are still pink, but his hair is combed this time. Still no jewelry, aside from the key necklace.

He sets a cold glass right in front of Sonny, "How're you doing?"

"I'm doing fine. How are you?"

"Me? Just fine. Busy. Just give me a signal if you need anything else."

Sonny forces himself to be okay with just watching Will. Watching him dominate his side of the bar, filling orders, stopping for a quick chat, going into the kitchen and back out without ever panicking even once.

Sonny doesn't even consider heading home. Once a stool finally becomes available, he grabs it and settles in.

It's like being watched by a very attractive stalker, Will thinks. Secure and patient, maybe just a little creepy. He holds onto his Pepsi, asks for a refill, and is still there even when the customers start to dwindle down.

He goes over to him again, asking, "You waiting on something over here?"

"Oh yeah." Sonny maintains eye contact as he speaks. "I'm definitely waiting."

Will wipes up a random spill on the counter, "Heard you met my Grandma Marlena."

"Yeah, a few days ago. You look a lot like her."

"So I've been told." Will tucks the rag into his pocket. ""Did you seriously go all the way there just to turn on your gentlemanly charm just so she'd sing your praises to me?"

"Actually, that was just a bonus, but no. I went over there cause she's technically a neighbor. I thought she'd been living here for a while, and would've liked to know someone was willing to help her out with things, if needed. And then I met her and realized that whole idea wasn't gonna work."

"That was nice of you." Will sighs in relief. "That was really nice of you. Honestly? She could actually use some help now and again. Uh, Doug?" He calls out, while still never looking away from Sonny. "I'm gonna head home. Close up without me?"

He pulls a bag from behind the bar, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Care for some company on your walk home, Will?"

"Yeah, I would care."

Will comes out from behind the bar, smiling when Sonny holds open the door for him.

"I hear you're working your ass off with that mansion."

"Every hour of every day." Sonny agrees. "Started on the kitchen, and I've made some serious headway. Haven seen you by the pond in the morning, though."

"Not lately." In all honesty, Will hadn't been coming in the morning on purpose, wanting to see if he'd come back to Doug's.

"I think your grandma Marlena likes me."

"I like her too."

"What about me?"

"Well I'd hope you like her too."

Will turns towards the opening of a simple iron fence when Sonny laughs. They move towards a little patio with a table and two chairs.

"Will." Sonny takes his hand.

"I live here." He gestures up towards the stairs leading to a second floor apartment.

"Oh. Well, so much for flirting with you on a long walk back to your place. But we could-"

"Nuh uh." Will pushes Sonny with a hand to the chest. "I'm not inviting you up. Not tonight. But what the hell. Let's get something else out of the way, see what the big deal is."

Will leans in, hands slipping around to the back of his neck as he kisses Sonny.

He's sinking. Like one moment he'd been walking on solid ground, only to realize he's standing on quicksand. It's like a 100 foot drop off of the K2, and about a thousand different emotions hitting him at once.

The softness of Will's lips and tongue, the warmth of his skin, the intoxicating scent of his aftershave.

By the time Sonny's able to tell what from which, Will's already stepping away.

"You're really good." Will whispers, a finger to Sonny's lips. "Somehow I already knew that. Goodnight, Sonny."

"Wait." He's not so far gone he can't move or speak. Sonny grabs Will's hand. "That was just a test run." Sonny tells Will, before pulling him back into his arms.

Sonny feels the amused smile against his, as he runs his hands up Wills back, resting on his neck, and lets himself sink.

Uh oh. That one thought bounces round in Will's head as he feels himself falling. His mouth is relaxed, but he can still feel the desperation coming from Sonny. Sonny's hands are so gentle, but still manage to hold Will against him tightly.

Just the taste alone, like something he'd been missing all this time, starts to sink into his bones.

Then someone opens the door to the bar, causing music to come blasting out, before going quiet again. A passerby comes a little too close behind Will, followed by another blast of music from an open window.

Warmth spreads over Will's skin, sinking under it, making his hands rest on his shoulders for a second, before settling on the back of his neck.

"Really, really good." Will repeats, then turned his head to whisper. "But I'm still not inviting you to come up. How am I supposed to miss you if you're always here?"

"Then I'll just have to keep coming back."

"Nobody can get enough of the Golden Boy." At least not at first, Will thinks to himself, as he finally steps away. "Go home, Sonny."

"I'm not going anywhere till I've seen you head completely inside."

Will raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Maybe chivalry isn't dead." Because he couldn't help but be moved, Will kisses Sonny on the cheek just once before walking up the stairs and reaching his door.

When Will goes to unlock his door and looks back, sure enough, Sonny's still standing there. "Sweet dreams, Sonny."

"What a nice thought that would be." Sonny mutters as Will closes the door behind him.


	11. Cry Me a River

DiMera mansion, Salem Illinois

January 2, 1941

_It's not true. Not unless someone is playing a joke, the cruelest, sickest joke imaginable. He refuses to believe for even a second believe his beloved Alice would leave him, leave their child._

_Tom sits on the edge of the bed, trapped in the haze his mind that set in when he'd returned home two days ago, only to find the mansion in disarray, and his wife gone._

_Another man. That's what they say. An old lover she'd been having an affair with when Tom lad left for Chicago on business._

_Bullshit._

_He's the only one. He had taken a saint as his bride, taken their vows in the garden._

_Something happened to her. He opens and closes his hand over the bronze hourglass necklace he'd given her the day he'd proposed. Something horrifying._

_But what was it? What could have possibly made her leave in the middle of the night?_

_An affair, he thinks as he rises to start pacing back and forth._

_But he knows in his heart it's not true. Had he not come back into town to ask, no, demand, to beg her entire family and friends, if they knew anything about what happened to her?_

_But the rumors didn't stop, and the gossip was already spreading all over town._

_Thomas Horton's wife had run off with someone else._

_And he could hear the rumors on top of those rumors. What was he expecting? Peasant garbage. Most likely that bastard son was already conceived and she passed it off as his._

_Disgusting, terrible lies._

_The door opens, Adelaide not even bothering to knock. The DiMera mansion belongs to her, now and forever. She can go in any room she wants._

_"Thomas."_

_He turns, "Did they find her?" He'd yet to change the clothes ruined by the last time he left to search, hope shining in his eyes past the dirt in his face._

_"They haven't." She closes the door behind her with a snap. "And they're not going to. She's gone, and probably right this second laughing at your devotion with her lover."_

_She almost believes it herself. Soon, she thinks, it will be true._

_"She didn't leave."_

_"You're an idiot. You were an idiot to marry her, and you're still an idiot." She walks to the armoire, throwing it open. "Do you not see her clothes are missing? Did the maid not say so herself?"_

_All Tom sees is the ball gown covered in lace and beading she'd been so proud of._

_"The maid is confused." But his voice is shaking._

_"No, you are. What about her jewelry?" Adelaide pulls the wooden box from the shelf, pushing up the lid. "Where's the beads you gave her for Christmas? The charm bracelet you gave her when your son was born?"_

_"They were stolen."_

_Adelaide dumps the box on the bed in disgust. "She took whatever was most vaueable. A girl like that knows what it's worth. She seduced you, made a mockery of your family name, and now we're all forever ruined."_

_"No!" He closes his eyes tightly, as he feels his heart break. "She'd never leave me. She'd never leave Bill."_

_"Whatever she felt for your son, I'd bet anything she and her lover wanted anything to do with a baby. How do you even know he's yours, Thomas?"_

_Tom's face grows hit with fury. "How dare you ask me that? How can you have lived in this house with your daughter-in-law for a whole year, and still say something like that?"_

_The suspicion, Adelaide thinks smugly, has been aroused. She would make it erect. "Because I was living in the same house as her for a whole year, but I wasn't stupid enough to be enchanted by whatever wiles she used on you. It's just as much your fault as hers. If you'd treated her like the whore she really is, and paid her or given her somewhat valuable jewelry, we wouldn't be in this mess!"_

_"Paid her like a whore. Like how Santo treats his women." Tom takes a step forward, hands shaking in anger. "My wife is not a whore."_

_"She was using you." Adelaide says in a harsh whisper. "She took your integrity, and in doing so trashed all of ours. She came into this mansion as the help, and left it with her lies, leaving her crying child in the dust."_

_She grabs his arms, shaking. "You tried to make something happen that never would. You put too much pressure on her. She'd never be worthy of the title of a wife of the DiMera mansion." "At least she had the decency to leave the second she figured that out, and she's gone for good. We're just going to hold our heads up high while this whole thing blows over. We're Hortins, and we're DiMeras, and we will get through this."_

_Then she turns away, walking back to the door. "I fully expect you to make yourself presentable and join us for dinner. These days of our lives have been corrupted long enough._

_By himself, Tom sits on the bed, still clutching the bronze hourglass, and lets himself cry._


	12. Stranger in My Bed

"I have to hand it to you, Sonny." Hands on his hips, Chad turns in a full circle in the kitchen. "You've got a huge mess on your hands."

"Try again in a couple weeks." Sonny calls out from the adjoining dining room, where he'd set up his work space.

Abi lifts a corner of a drop cloth. "The floor's going to be spectacular! It's like a blank slate." she says as she looks around the destroyed kitchen. "He had to scrap the whole thing just so it would look right."

"Abi, please. Ditch that bozo and come live in the DiMera mansion with me."

"Would you please quit pretending you're straight and flirting with my fiance?" Chad walks in the doorway. Sonny stands by a power saw, tool belt hanging off his hips and a pencil in hand. It's starting to look to Chad like his best friend was neglecting his time with the razor over the past 3 days.

But somehow, miraculously, the scruffy look suits him.

"Did you actually call us here for a reason, or did you just wanna show off your transition into a grizzly bear?"

"I could definitely use one or two extra sets of hands." Sonny runs the saw through a piece of wood with a satisfying hum and a puff of sawdust, then switches it off before looking at them again. "You serious about wanting to help?"

"Of course." Chad slings an arm around Abi's shoulder. "We'll work for a free drink."

Now it's four hours later, and they're all sitting on the patio outside the now fully painted fresh kitchen. Abi, nearly buried alive in a shirt Sonny had let her borrow for a smock, has paint splattered all over her face. The beer's cold and refreshing, and on Sonny's small boombox, Lynyrd Skynyrd is singing about sweet home Alabama.

As he tries to pull out a new splinter from his thumb, Sonny decides it really can't get better than this.

"What's with the blooming bush?" He asks, gesturing towards the mess of a garden.

"Aster." Abi supplies for him. "These gardens are an abomination, Sonny."

"I know. I really need to get to work on them."

"You can't get to work on everything at once. Justhire someone to come out here and clean it up themselves."

Then Abi looks at her hands, also covered in paint, and decides, "I'm gonna go wash up. Mind if I do a little snooping?"

"Abi." Sonny kisses her cheek. Do whatever you wanna do."

"You're lucky you're not straight." Chad notes as Abi goes inside.

"You have no idea."

"But it seems to me you have your sights set on a guy right now, the way you keep looking towards the pond."

"Since Abi won't be my beard unless I kill you, I've settled for Marlena out of the kindness of my heart."

"Sure you are." Laughing, Chad leans back on his elbows.f "Will though. He has a tendency to get a guy all excited, getting them thinking who knows what."

"You're straight."

"Doesn't mean I don't have eyes. Don't worry though, I'm not switching teams, and Abi's all I need." He lets out a content sigh. "Besides, me and Will, we figured our teams out a long time ago."

"What do you mean?" Sonny sets his beer back down, staring at his best friend. "You and WIll. You mean you...and Will?"

Chad chuckles, "One late summer night. Must've been back in college. Yikes." He rubs his chest. "Crazy college party, I walk out back to the jacuzzi, and there he is, drunk off his ass singing Good King Wenceslas. Then after I pull him out of there, he's so grateful he actually lunges at me, and kisses me. You know how people do things when they're drunk."

At Sonny's look, Chad defends himself. "Hey, I was smashed too. I was looking at him with beer goggles. Thought, what the hell." Then Chad chuckles, "Well, I kissed back, played beer pong with him, went skinny dipping with him. That was his first gay kiss." He shoots Sonny a look. "You know, it's supposed to be you never forget your first kiss. You've got a challenge ahead of you."

"I think I can do better than a sloppy drunk kiss." Despite, Sonny admits to himself, the fact that Will made him feel otherwise. "So what happened?"

"Sobered up and Will realized he's gay. I left, he stayed. Beer goggles were off, and he was more than relieved I didn't hate him and still wanted to be his friend. He still is. One of my favorite people in Salem."

"I know a cautionary tale when I hear it. You protecting the baby gay, Chad?"

"I just don't want to see my two best friends hurt each other. You both have a lot of baggage."

"I know how to keep mine in check."

"Maybe.God knows how hard he's worked to keep his locked up. His mom--" Chad breaks off when Abi screams.

Beer spills everywhere when Chad knocks over the bottle as he jumps up. He gets through the kitchen door in one leap faster than Sonny and calls out for Abi.

"Upstairs." Sonny veers to the right as he bolts up the stairs. "She's upstairs."

"Chad! Chad, get up here!"

She's sitting on the floor, hugging herself, the throws herself at Chad the second he drops down next to her. "Abi what's wrong? You hurt?"

"No, no. I saw…" She turns into his shoulder. "In there. On the bed."

Sonny looks at the open door. The only bed in there is the one he's pictured. He slowly pushes the door open all the way. He can see a layer of dust on the floor, and a disturbance where Abi had started to go inside. The sun shines through the windows, onto nothing but the wood and fading wallpaper.

"What did you see in here, Abi?" Sonny asks.

"On the bed. A woman-- you could tell from her face she was already dead."

"Honey." Looking in the room, Chad strokes her hair. "There's nothing in there. Look, see for yourself. Nothing."

"But I…"

"Tell me what you saw." Sonny kneels down beside her. "What exactly did you see in there?"

"I saw.." Abi shudders, then purses her lips. "Help me up, Chad."

Though her face is paler than a ghost, she gets up to her feet and goes inside.

"Abi, you're shaking like a leaf. We should take you downstairs."

"No! No, not yet." Her eyes are wide, heart still pounding as she looks around the room. "There's no way I saw anything. It's empty. Completely empty. I was just imagining…"

"A bed? Drapes? A chest of drawers and vanity table? A chaise? Candles on the mantel and a photograph?"

"How do you know that's what I saw?"

'Because that's exactly what I saw. First day I showed up. I smelled roses."

"Lavender roses in a crystal vase." Abi continues, a tear leaking out of her eye. "I thought that was weird, but also sweet, that you'd have flowers. Then I wondered, how did he fix the place up so perfectly, and why didn't he say anything? Then I stepped inside and saw her body on the bed. I'm sorry, I need to get some air."

Chad leads her out immediately, without another word.

"My hero." She whispers as he leads her towards the stairs.

"You scared the crap out of me, Abi. Sonny, please get my fiance some water."

For a really long moment, Sonny just stares at the inside of the room, before following them down.

He grabs the water, taking it back to the patio where Abi is sitting in Chad's lap.

"Still think ghosts aren't real?"

She takes the water, sipping it as she studies Sonny over the rim of the glass. "I was imagining it."

"A robe draped over the chaise. A brush, some kind of bronze necklace."

"Hourglass necklace." She says quietly, before letting out a shaky breath. "I don't know how to explain it."

"Tell me about the woman."

"Her face was covered in bruises and blood. Oh god, Chad."

"Shh." He strokes her hair, pulling her close. "You don't have to talk about it. Leave her alone, Sonny."

"No, I'm fine." Taking a few slow breaths, Abi rests her head on Chad's shoulder. She locks eyes with Sonny, holding his gaze. "It's just so odd. So horrible and odd. I think she was pretty young, but I couldn't really tell. Blond hair. She was wearing a nightgown, and it was torn. There were these ugly bruises on her neck. It was like...oh god, like she was strangled. And i just knew she was dead. I screamed and stumbled. It's like my legs just stopped working and gave out from under me."

"I'm gonna figure out who she was." Sonny declares. "There has to be a way to find out who she was. Family, the help, even a guest. If there was a woman that died violently, there has to be a record if it somewhere."

"I can help you research." Abi lowers her glass, managing a smile. "I am a bookworm, after all."

"If someone was murdered here, you'd think we'd have heard stories about it over time." Chad shakes his head. "But I haven't. At all. Abi, I really just want to take you home."

"And I'm letting you." Abi reaches out, squeezing Sonny's arm. "Come with us? With all this going on, I'm not sure I want you staying here."

"I have to stay. And more than that, I want to."

I need to, he thinks once he's alone, and the nail gun the only noise to be heard in the dining room. He's not just restoring the mansion, he's making it his. If a dead woman has something to do with it, then she's his too.

He wants to know everything. Her name, her life story. Where did she come from? Why is she dead? Maybe that's why he's really here, to figure that out.

If those visions, feelings, had scared everyone else away, they were only serving to keep him right where he is.

Ghosts don't bother him, Sonny thinks as he runs a hand over the side of his first finished cabinet. But he's not gonna be satisfied until he knows who they are.

But still, when he finally calls it a day and goes to bed, he sleeps with the lights on.


	13. (I Can See) Landscapes

The next few days, Sonny's too busy to think about sleepwalking or ghosts, or even the days off he promised he'd take. The plumber and electrician he hired were working hard, each with their own crews. The house is way too occupied for ghosts to bother haunting it.

The landscapers he'd hired walk around his gardens, making noises that could be either approval or disgust. One of them was obviously the leader, and after looking around for a full hour, gave Sonny a quote for getting rid of all the dead plants and weeds. Despite wondering if the price is what's getting them their 401K, Sonny decides to trust Chad's recommendation and hire them.

They bring with them shovels, pickaxes, and clippers bigger than his own head. From the dining room where he's still working on cabinets, Sonny can hear their voices rising and falling, an occasional bang and thump here and there.

When he looks outside, over time, he notices the mess slowly disappearing.

The plaster guy Marlena send his way is a tall black guy whose name was Eli Grant, as was his great grandfather, as Sonny's informed, who also worked as one of the butlers for the Horton-DiMeras.

They take a tour of the mansion, Eli writing down in a small notepad. When they get to the ballroom, Eli looks up at the ceiling in awe.

"I keep thinking there's a picture in my head that doesn't exist." he says. "I don't I could ever get used to a view like this."

"You've been here before?"

"The people that bought the mansion before you, they called me about plaster too. They had some huge, crazy ideas. Not that anything ever happened with them. Anyway, they were planning on going with someone from St. Louis. So I've been told."

"Why?"

Eli keeps smiling at the ceiling. "They had these big, crazy ideas, and didn't see how the townsfolk could do just as good a job with the polish. They thought the higher the price, the better the work. Know what I'm saying?"

'I definitely do. The way I see it, if you hire locally, you're more likely to get someone who actually cares about doing their job. Think you're up for attempting to fix and duplicate it?"

"I did work for the Martin place in town. Got some pictures out in my truck for reference. If you wanna take a look, maybe go take a look at the work itself at the Martin place. They still let people take tours and hold events. I can give you a few names too."

"I'll take a look at the photos."

One look at the before and after photos, and right away Sonny can tell this man has a gift. He asked for a quote as a formality, and after promising to have one by the end of the week, Eli offers a hand.

"I'd really love to get to work on that ballroom." Eli looks back at the mansion. "Any thoughts about the second floor?"

"Eventually."

"You should talk to my friend Eric Brady. He cleans houses."

"I don't think I need a housekeeper."

Eli laughs, taking out a piece of gum. "Not that kind of cleaning." He offers Sonny a piece, as he takes one for himself and chews it. "Spiritual cleaning. You've got a few spirits up in there." He chews thoughtfully. "Especially on the second floor."

"What makes you say that?"

"I could feel them on the back of my neck. You couldn't? When the last owners were here working ong th place, they lost two workers. Saw something and turned tail and ran. Refused to set foot in there. Could be the reason they were always looking at out-of-towners."

Eli shrugs, chewing his gum. "Probably why none of those crazy ideas ever came to fruition."

"Do you know anything about what happened on the second floor?"

"No, I don't. Don't know anyone who would, either. Just a few people who won't go up there for anything, price tag be damned. If you want me to help with the plaster on the second floor, give Eric Brady a call first."

They both turn at hearing a car coming up the path. "That's Mr. Horton's car, with Marlena with him."

Eli's smile only gets bigger as the car finally stops right beside his truck.

"Afternoon, you two." Eli walks to the passenger side door to open it for Marlena, "How're you two doing?"

'We're both doing just fine, Eli. How's your family?"

"We're all doing just fine."

Will climbs out as Sonny opens his door. His jeans were enticingly tight, worn with a soft navy blue t shirt. "My grandma Marlena thought it was about time we stopped by for a visit." Will looks at the driveway, looking at the number of trucks of already there. "What, did you hire the entire Air Force?"

"No, just a small platoon." He smells like chamomile, Sonny thinks. He smells like the night. If he doesn't learn some manners, he can at least swallow his gum. "Want a tour?"

"We'll get there eventually. Ei, say hi to Gabi for me, would you?"

"That I can do. But I should get going. I'll get you your quiote, Mr. Hortrakis."

'It's Sonny. I can't wait. Marlena." Sonny takes her hand as ELi gets into his truck. She's wearing a pantsuit colored charcoal gray, along with a jacket on top of it.

She smells like flowers, and her hand is soft. Everything about her makes him relax. "Welcome to the DiMera mansion, in all its unfinished glory."

Marlena winks at Will when Sonny kisses her hand. "We'll get right on that when we finish out here. Heard you hired some friends of ours." she says, nodding to the corresponding van. "How're they doing?"

'They're doing the job they were hired for. Not sure how, either." Sonny studies the front gardens with his thumbs hooked through his belt loops. "I don't ever see them actually doing anything, but next time I look, more of the underbrush is gone. Want me to show you the gardens?"

"I would, actually. Will, honey, can you grab the holy water out of the car. Well sprinkle it on the trees, as a start."

'Holy water?"

"To ward off the bad spirits." Will starts pulling out glass bottles, filled with water out of the car.

'Are evil spirits my main concern?" Sonny asks.

Marlena takes two, then moves towards the trees.

"Holy water." Sonny repeats, lifting a bottle of his own. He'd seen them in churches plenty enough. "How does it work?"

"It's just a simple blessing." Will tells him. "A prayer from the bible, dropping a rosary in the water, and sprinkling the water on the thing that needs the blessing."

As a test, Sonny flings the water on the tree. It eases his worries easily enough, he thinks, and not that hard to do. "You believe in superstition?"

"I believe in being prepared." Will walks off, thin and slightly curvy, to join Marlena.

Superstition or holy water, he likes the way it makes him feel. And when he flings the water at another tree, he feels himself put at ease even more.

It takes them almost a whole hour to get all the way around the house and back inside, what with talking to the landscapers, asking about their families, talking about the weather, work on the garden.

When Sonny finally redirects them to the kitchen, Marlena puts her hands on her hips and nods. "Good color. Like freshly cut grass. Most would just use straight up white. Stands out against the floor."

"I'll be ready to install the cabinets sometime next week." Sonny gestures to the dining room. "I'm using the same wood there too. With glass fronts."

Marlena walks in with her lips pursed, as she runs a hand over the cabinet. "This is some exquisite work, Sonny. You're talented."

"Thank you."

"It's making you happy too."

"That it is. Want to see the smoking room? I have a table set up in there. We can always have coffee." Sonny looks up immediately upon hearing something up above hit the floor. "Apologies for the noise."

"It's hardly ever quiet when it comes to work. Will and I will just check the place out ourselves, if that's alright with you. We can find the smoking room."

"Can't miss it. Only place that's even remotely furnished with a table."


	14. My House is Your House

"He's a very polite young man." Marlena tells Will as they walk out of the dining room.

"Yeah, he is."

"He's attractive, too."

"Very."

"I think he likes you."

Now Will laughs. "He does."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm still deciding. My god, this place is something." Will trails his hands over a wall. "You could drive a car right through these doorways. It almost makes you want to cry, seeing the bad shape it's in."

"Bad shape? I don't know about that. Looks to me like it was just waiting for its rightful owner to come snatch it up. And isn't it just typical for a single man." Marlena comments when they reach the smoking room. "One table and two chair. Bet he hasn't bothered with a real home cooked meal since he moved in here."

Will cocks his head. "Grandma, you can't make me feel sorry enough for him to actually cook for him." Amused, Will goes to the window. "God, the view from here is so beautiful. Just think how it would've looked back in the day. To stand here when the place was in tiptop shape. Vintage cars pulling up in the drive."

"I have no doubt it can be restored back to its former glory. But it needs someone to be there for it-- just like Sonny needs someone to be there for him."

Will fidgets with his key necklace, before responding, "I said I'm still deciding. It's freezing." He adds. "Should get a fire going in here."

"I can start one." Sonny tells him as he shows up armed with a pitcher of too strong coffee, and styrofoam cups.

It's a good hour, Sonny thinks. Not counting Chad and Abi, they're his first real guests.

He likes having them over, their presence in his smoking room but the fire he'd built himself crackling away, late afternoon sun barely shining through the dusty windows.

"I'm definitely coming back. Marlena tells him. "I want to see the kitchen once it's complete."

"Come back whenever you want. I'd really love to show you the rest of the place."

"You can still show Will. I'm just going to head on home."

"I can take you home, Grandma."

"No, that's alright. You can stay." She can deny it all she wants, but there was nothing subtle about her tone. "I'm just going to walk back, then I'll just rest a bit before getting back to work in time before my next patient."

As Marlena starts to get up, Sonny follows, offering his hand to help her up. Which gets her to smile. "You have such polite manners. Come by my place when you're not all wrapped up in this place. I'll make you a proper meal, before you turn into nothing but skin and bones."

"The phones are finally working." He reaches into his pocket for some paper, as well as a pencil, and writes down his number. "Anything you need, give me a call."

"I will be sure to take you up on that." She turns her cheek towards him, and Sonny obliges with a peck. As he walks her towards the door, she lens in to whisper,

"I approve of you for my grandson. You'll treat him right, where most haven't."

"So does that mean my chances with you are over, Marlena?"

Marlena just laughs, patting his face, "If I was a decade or so younger, or if you liked women, he'd definitely have some competition. Now go on and show him the rest of the mansion."

Sonny watches her go past the freshly holy water anointed trees, before he hears behind him,

"You like my grandma Marlena." Will calls from the smoking room doorway.

"She's stolen my heart. She's incredible. But isn't a long walk back to her place? Shouldn't she--."

"She doesn't do anything she doesn't want to, be it walking or anything else. You couldn't stop her if you wanted to." Will walks over to stand next to Sonny by the front door, which prompts Sonny to turn toward him, telling him, "You know, I almost came by your place twice, but chickened out."

"Why?"

"Well to me, there's a fine line between pursuing, and outright stalking." Sonny reaches out to card his fingers through Will's hair. "I figured if I could at least wait until I actually got you here, then you could safely say I wasn't a stalker."

"If I want someone to leave me alone, I can them to leave me alone."

"Are men in the habit of doing what you tell them?"

Will's lips curve upward into that smile again, making Sonny want to bite his lips again. "More or less. Are you going to show me the rest of the place or not?"

"Yes I am." He catches Will by his chin, kissing him

"Of course I am. Oh, just so you know." Sonny adds as he takes will's hand to lead him towards the stairs. "Your grandma Marlena just gave me permission to date you."

"Last I checked, that's up to me, not her."

"Oh believe me, I have every intention of winning you over so completely, you won't even notice we skipped that step. Isn't this staircase incredible?"

"Yeah, it is." Will trails a finger along the banister. "This place is glorious, Sonny. And from what I've seen of it so far, you're not some bigshot CEO at all, are you?"

"Ex-CEO. And I'm not sure I know what you mean by that."

"You have plenty of money to do anything you want with the place, even keep it-- are you going to keep it?"

"Yes, I am."

"Then you're a step up from rich. You're loaded. Am I right?"

"If by that you mean is money an issue, the answer's no. But it's not just about all the money I'm putting into it."

Will stops at the top and laughs. "Oh wow. If you honestly think that, you're clearly not shopping in the right places."

"Hey, if you want to give me a lesson on shopping, I'm all ears."

"Maybe." Will looks down at the foyer from over the banister. "You'll be needing furniture eventually. I have a few good places in mind."

"You have family here?"

"Here and there." Will lifts his eyebrows at the noise, as well as the cursing down the hall.

"Just the plumber." Sonny explains. "Had him start in the master bathroom. It was a complete eyesore. If you know anybody who likes ugly bathroom fixtures, I'm your guy."

He starts to pull Will away from the door of what he's started to think of as the haunted room, but Will turns the knob anyway, opening it. Sonny holds his breath as he watches Will go in.

"Chilly in here." Will hugs himself, which does nothing to make him stop shivering. "Might want to think about saving the wallpaper. Pink and blue flowers.

He's halfway to the doors to the veranda when he suddenly stops, and the shivering turns into a full on shudder. In the next moment, he's overcome with this unbearable grief. "It's kind of depressing, huh? It needs some light in here. Put some life back into it."

"A ghost lives here. A woman. I think she might've been murdered in this room."

"Do you now?" Will turns back to him. His face has gone pale, eyes wide, "I don't think it's...angry. Just sad. Lonely and sad."

WIll's voice is thick, and without thinking, Sonny goes inside to stand right next to Will. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Just really cold."

Sonny reaches over to rub Will's arms, and the second he touches Will, it's like being shocked with static.

Will steps back, a half chuckle on his lips. "I don't think that's what my grandma meant by dating me, Sonny."

"No, it's the room. There's something really weird about this room."

"I'm not worried about any ghosts, and neither should you. It's not like they're gonna hurt you." But Will still goes back to the door, fighting the need to quicken his pace.

He wanders through the other rooms, but in none of them did he feel that same sadness that forced him out of the first one.

At Sonny's bedroom door, he smiles, "Well, it's not so bad in here. You have good taste." He sticks his head in the bathroom, where several people are banging and cursing. "Which is more than I can say for whoever designed your bathroom."

Will leans on the doorjamb, chatting with the plumbers for a few minutes, while Sonny chooses to hang back and watch Will.

This is ridiculous, he chides himself. A very silly crush he seems to have developed.

And when Will looks at Sonny from over his shoulder, the jolt hits him right in the gut and spreads all the way to the bottom of the soles of his feet.

"Let me show you the ballroom. It's going to be the main attraction."

"Sure, I'd love to." But once they start to go, Will gestures to the stairs. "Where do they lead?"

"Just more empty bedrooms. Storage, mostly, along with the rooms for the help."

'Let's go look."

"It's nothing interesting." Sonny makes a grab for Will's hand, but Will's already moving.

"Can you get to the belvedere this way?" Will asks. "I've always looked up at it and pictured myself standing on it."

"It's easier from the-- no, don't!"

Sonny's barked order has Will's hand freezing on the doorknob of the makeshift nursery. "What's the matter? You got a sex dungeon in there? You have your skeletons in this room instead of a closet?"

"No, I just..." Sonny can feel himself panicking, feels it rising up and choking him. "There's something really wrong with that room."

"Isn't that the case with all of them?" Will teases, then opens the door.

Sonny's right. Will feels it immediately, the same overwhelming grief and sadness and loneliness. He sees walls and and floors and windows, dust and neglect. It literally feels like his heart is breaking.

Even when Will tries to speak, the cold blasts him. It settles over his skin, like a cold breath, brushing through his hair like a hand.

"This is the heart." He announces, despite having no idea why he's saying it, or how he knows this. "You feel it too, don't you?"

Sonny sways slightly in the doorway, fingers clinging tightly to the doorjamb. His fear is irrational, stabbing him like millions of little pinpricks. This is his mansion, he reminds himself bitterly. His motherfucking mansion. He takes one step inside, then takes another.

The room spins. He hears someone scream, sees Will's face take on a look of alarm. Sonny thinks Will's lips might be moving, saying his name. Then everything goes dark, white spots dancing across his vision.


	15. Unanswered Prayers

"Sonny. I'm here. I'm right here."

Someone's stroking a hand through his hair, touching his face. He feels someone's lips touch his. His vision is blurry when he opens his eyes, so he just closes them again.

"No, you're not doing that." He pats his cheeks with a shaky hand.

Sonny had fallen like a bowling ball, right after all the blood had drained from his face, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Please, open your eyes."

"What happened?"

"You fainted."

Sonny opens his eyes again, focuses on Will's face. Embarrassment coupled with nausea takes over his own face. "Excuse me, I don't faint. I'm known now and again for passing out and losing consciousness, but not fainting."

The shuddering breath Will lets out upon hearing that is one of relief. Sonny could've literally cracked his skull, he thinks, but his sense of humor appears to still be intact. "Fine, have it your way. You passed out cold. Hit the floor hard enough to where your head literally bounced back." Will leans down again, brushing his lips on the newly acquired scrape on Sonny's forehead.

"That's gonna leave a bruise. I couldn't grab you in time. Although maybe if I had, you would've taken me down with you."

Will manages to roll Sonny over, stroking a hand over his pale cheeks. "You do that often?"

"Well, it usually follows me drinking myself into a coma, which I haven't done a lot of since I was a younger. But at the risk of completely humiliating myself again in the span of the next few minutes, I seriously need to get the hell out of his room."

"Okay, okay. Can you get up on your own? I'm not strong enough to lift you up by myself. You're pretty bulky."

"That I am." Sonny gets to his knees, trying to breathe, but it's once again choking him. It's like an elephant has decided to sit right on his chest, and his heart feels like it's trying to get back to its normal rhythm. He staggers, stumbling slightly.

Will wraps an arm around Sonny's waist, taking as much weight as he can handle. "One step at a time. Let's get you downstairs so you can lie down."

"No, it's fine. I'm fine." Sonny's ears are still ringing. The second he's out of the room, he goes towards the steps, then just sinks to the floor to put his head between his knees. "My God."

"There we go." Will consoles him as he strokes his hair.

"Can you close the door, please? Just close it."

Will hurries over and slams the door shut. "Take a minute so you can breathe again, then we'll get you into your bed."

"I've been waiting to hear that since the first time I saw you."

The feeling in Will's gut eases some. "You're back to your old self, aren't you?"

"Very." Sonny can finally breathe normally again, and the nausea is also ebbing away. "I'm just gonna have to beat someone up, or shoot something, to get my dignity back."

"Show me your face." Will tips his head back, studying him. "Still slightly pale, but the color's slowly coming back. I'm guessing my grandma was right when she said you're not eating full meals. What've you eaten today?"

"Cheerios. Breakfast of champions." Sonny manages to give a weak smile. "Don't think it worked, unfortunately."

"I'm gonna make a sandwich."

"Oh really?" Just the idea of it gives Sonny such a tickle of pleasure. "You're gonna make me a meal?"

"A sandwich isn't a meal."

"It is to me. Will, about that room…"

"We don't have to talk about it now-- after you've eaten something, okay?"

The pickings were slim. Will only has to take one look in the fridge that currently resides in the dining room, and he's already giving Sonny a look of pity. "How old are you again? 10?"

"I'm just a guy." Sonny shrugs. "Gay or straight, we all seem to have the same grocery habits. I have peanut butter to go with that jelly." Sonny looks around the room. "Somewhere, anyway."

He also has one measly piece of ham from the deli, some suspiciously pale cheese and a bag of pre chopped salad mix. "Looks like it's gonna be me cooking for you after all. Where's the stove?"

"Up here." Sonny taps the microwave.

"Guess we'll just have to improvise. Bowls? Utensils?"

"Uh…" Sonny goes through the box where he's currently keeping his kitchen supplies, pulling out the plastic utensils.

"Okay, now this is just flat out sad. Sit down, and good ol' Will Horton will take care of you. One time offer." Will adds.

Sonny sits on the sawhorse and watches Will beat the eggs, shred the ham, cheese, as well as sprinkle in some of the salad mix.

"Got any herbs or spices?"

"Salt and pepper. That counts, right?" Sonny mutters when he hears Wil sigh. "Salt is the spice of life."

"You had an awesome cook growing up, didn't you?"

"So what if I did?'

"What happened when you finally moved out on your own?"

"Microwave, takeout or delivery. Long as I had those three options, I never starved."

Will puts the bowl in the microwave, setting the time, then turning back towards Sonny.

"If you're gonna live here, you might wanna seriously consider hiring a cook."

"What's your price?"

"Very funny, Sonny." His face isn't pale anymore, and his eyes aren't bleary either. Whatever unsettling feeling he'd been feeling since Sonny first fainted seems to have come loose. "How come you're not taken?"

"I did have someone, but it turns out he didn't love me as much as I loved him."

"Oh really?" Will opens the microwave when he hears the beep, then whisks the eggs for a good minute before setting it again. "What happened?"

"Chad didn't already tell you?"

"He doesn't tell other people's secrets."

"I was with a man still in the closet. I gave him the ultimatum of marrying me or breaking up with me. Which, I know, makes me the asshole. A lot of people in San Francisco still want my head on a platter for that."

He's trying to make light of it, Will thinks, but he's not really selling it.

"That how you wound up here?"

"No, it's how I realized I needed to leave."

"But you did love him."

"Yes, I did love him."

"You're still sad just talking about it." Will takes out the bowl again, grabbing a plastic fork and handing it to Sonny. His eyes are wild again, Will notices. Full of regret. "Did he love you?"

"Yes. We were happy in the moments we had together. We were always behind closed doors. He thought I was fine to do that for who knows how long."

'But you weren't."

"I never was. And the longer we kept it up, the more I saw my life...reduced to this dirty little secret that deserved to be hidden away. Never seeing the light of day unless he said it was okay. I realized the way I felt about being with Paul was the same way I felt about being the CEO of Titan Industries, and if that was all I had to look forward to, I could either drive my car off a cliff, or not be that dirty little secret anymore while I still could."

Will brushes the hair off of Sonny's forehead, "It would've been more cowardly to jump than to get out."

"Maybe. This is awesome." Sonny says as he gets another bite. "So why don't you have someone?"

Will cocks his head, "How do you know I don't?"

Sonny grabs Will's hand before he can turn away. "I'm outright asking if you do."

Will looks down at Sonny's hand, before landing back on his face. "Why?"

"Because I can't get you out of my head. You're always on my mind, under my skin. Everytime I see you, my heart skips a beat."

"You're really good at that. Saying things you know will make a man excited." If that's really all it is, just Will being excited by Sonny, Will might actually get in between Sonny's legs and given them both a good time. But this isn't just some guy, he thinks.

Nothing about being with Sonny can ever be that easy.

"Eat your eggs." WIll tells Sonny, sliding his hand out of his. "Why start with the kitchen if all you eat is peanut butter and don't even have your own set of plates?"

"I do, but not the kind for eating. The kitchen's the real heart of the house. The mansion i gre up in-- big, beautiful mansion with big beautiful rooms. We had that cook I mentioned, but whenever there was a family emergency or a celebration, or just something we wanted to talk about, the kitchen's where we always wound up. Guess I was hoping to have that here too."

"That's really cool." Will leans against a cabinet to look at him. "Do you want to have sex with me, Sonny?"

Sonny's pulse falters, but he somehow manages to get himself off the sawhorse. "Course. Just give me a minute to get the plumber out of here." He loves Will's laugh. "Oh, you meant later. Right, that was a yes or no question. Gimme a second." Sonny pretends to check his pulse. "Yep. Still alive and well. So the answer is yes."

Will shakes his head, taking the empty bowl out of Sonny's hands, dumping it in a box he's using for trash. "You're quite an interesting guy, Sonny, and I really like you."

"Oh no. Hold on a second." Sonny looks, picking up a screwdriver lying on one of his planks. "Here, take this." Sonny says, handing it to Will.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"You're supposed to drill it right into my chest, immediately after you tell me we should just be friends."

"I'd be willing to bet money Paul's beating himself up for letting you get away. And you're right. I do want to be friends." Will turns the screwdriver over in his hands, before setting it back down. "But I don't know if that's all I want us to be. I still haven't made up my mind."

"Okay." Sonny takes Will's arms, running his hands up to Will's shoulers. "Make up your mind."

Will doesn't push him away, instead pulls his face to meet Sonny's so their lips can touch. He loves the easy segue from warm to hot, the easiness offered by a man who's not scared to be patient.

Will understands hunger. Other guys'. His own. Just like he knows a lot of that hunger can only be sated by a quickie in the dark.

He himself, now and again, had satisfied his own doing just that.

But this is more. Instead of hunger, this is coming across as longing. Longing, when felt, can cause more pain and suffering than hunger will.

But that doesn't stop him from resting his hands on the back of Sonny's neck, letting the kiss play out.

Somewhere, deep inside him, he feels something sigh.

"Will."

Sonny says his name, only a whisper, as he redirects the kiss, deepening it. A thousand different alarms go off in his head, and are promptly ignored. He lets Sonny take full control, giving over to the heat, the desperation. To the longing.

Then he pulls away altogether. "That is definitely something to keep in mind."

Will puts a hand on Sonny's chest when Sonny's tries to pull him back. "Whoa, slow down." He shoots Sonny a very tired smile. "I think you've worked me up enough for one day, don't you?"

"And here I thought we were starting to get somewhere."

"I can believe that." Will lets out a breath, fixing his messed up hair. "I gotta go. I'm working tonight."

"I'll come with. Keep you company, walk you home."

However relaxed Sonny's voice sounds, his eyes betray the truth. If Will's not careful, he'll fall for him before he ever has the chance to avoid the fallout. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Will, please. I want you. I want to be with you."

"If you want to be with me so badly, how about asking me on a date first."

"A date?"

"Yeah you know. Pick me up at my place, take me somewhere nice." Will taps a finger to Sonny's chest. "Dancing after, then walk me all the way back to my door, sealed with a goodnight kiss. Whole nine yards. Think you can manage that?"

"What time should I pick you up?"

Will smiles, shaking his head, "Mondays are always slow, so I have the day off. Pick me up at 7."

"Monday at 7."

Sonny grabs Will's arms again, pulling Will against him. There's no easy segue into hot this time, instead throwing him into it headfirst.

Yep, Will thinks, definitely a hell of a ride before the fallout.

"Just to remember me by." Sonny tells him.

More like to warn him away, Will thinks. This guy's nowhere near as gentle as he makes himself out to be. "I don't think I'll ever be able to forget you, Sonny Kiriakis. See you later."

"Will, wait. We didn't talk about what happened up there."

"Oh we will." Will calls from over his shoulder, and keeps going.

He's not able to breathe easy until he's actually out of the mansion. Sonny's nowhere near the simple guy Will assumed he's be able to manage. His good manners aren't a charade, they're a part of who he is. But so is the heat and determination.

It's something Will can appreciate and respect.

It's not that he can't manage hi, Will tells himself as he gets into his car. Managing guys is his specialty.

But this guy is definitely way more complicated than how he acts. And way more intriguing than any guy he's ever met.

He knows what people see when they look at him. And he's okay with it, because there's more than just what they see. Or wanted to see.

He has a strong mind, strong back and an ease that he uses to get whatever he wants. He gets through life the same way he co runs the bar. With an appreciation for the gray area, but still built on the black and white underneath it.

Will looks in his rearview mirror at the DiMera mansion as he drives away. It worries him to no end that Sonny Kiriakis could mess up the black and white so easily, in a way no one ever has before.

It worries him even more to know he might not be able to pick up the pieces when he ultimately leaves him.

They always leave. Unless you're the one doing the leaving.


	16. Dreaming of You

Back in his room, Sonny dreams about Will, drifting off to sleep with dreams about him. Strong, heavy dreams where he's underneath him, moving under him with hard, quick movements, of his hips. Damp skin, like melted gold. Sparkling blue eyes, and soft pink lips.

He can hear him breathing, the catch and release, those little pockets of quiet pleasure. He can smell him, that siren call of chamomile that always makes him think of sweet dreams and shadows.

Sonny drops into a deeper sleep, aching for Will.

_He watches as Will turns into a woman, hurrying along a hallway, arms full of sheets. Her hair, that beautiful hair, pinned back. Body covered from neck to toe in a dress buttoned down the front.__Her lips are pressed tightly together, and somehow, Sonny can hear her thoughts as clearly as his own.__She has to go, to put away the sheets. Adelaide is already awake, and she won't stand for the help running up and down the halls. If he doesn't hurry, he'll be seen.__She can't let her see her. The less you're seen, the longer you're employed. That's what Henderson says, and rarely ever is she wrong about these things.__She needs the work. Her family needs the money she brings in, but oh how she loves working in the DiMera mansion. It's the most beautiful place she's ever seen. She's so happy to be a part of its upkeep.__How many times has she admired it from afar in the square? Admiring it, aching for just a small glimpse in the windows, to see all the beautiful people inside.__And now she is inside, responsible for making sure that beauty stays intact.__She loves wood polishing, sweeping the floors. Watching how the glass sparkles after she scrubs it.__In Sonny's dream, she comes out of the hallway though one of the hidden doors. Her eyes dart back and forth everywhere as she keeps hurrying, wallpaper, rugs, wood and glass. She slips into a dressing room, putting the sheets away in a cabinet.__But once she turns back towards the door, something catches her eye, so she tiptoes to look out the window.__Sonny watches as she sees a car approaching as it comes up the long driveway. Sonny feels what she feels as her heart lurches at the sight of a man who comes out of the car. His hair is black, still neat as he walks towards the entrance, with a gray coat over his shoulders and his shoes shining.__Her hand goes to her throat, and she thinks, very clearly, here is the prince coming home to his castle.__She sighs, as women do when they fall head over heels in love. The man smiles, like he's smiling at her, yet knowing it's the house itself that's bringing that look to his face.__Heart pounding, she hurries out of the room, back to the servants' door and into the tunnel.__The young heir has arrived, she thinks. Only time will tell what happens next._

Sonny wakes up with a jolt, in the pitch black, freezing cold. He smells damp, along with the dust and the hardwood floor underneath him.

"What the hell?" Groggy and disgusted with himself, he stretches out a hand, only to hit a wall. Using it as his reference point, he pulls himself to his feet. He fumbles around, waiting to hit a corner, or a door. It takes a moment for him to register there's no wallpaper on the wall.

He's not in the haunted room this time. He's in one of the help's tunnels, like the woman in his dream was.

Somehow, he thinks, he'd walked it the same as she had.

The very idea of fumbling around in the dark until he finds the way out doesn't appeal to him in the slightest, but he has to admit it's better than being stuck in here waiting for the sun to rise.

He inches along, and by the time he feels the crease of the door, he's covered in sweat.

He forces his way out, sending up a prayer of thanks when he's able to breathe fresh air, seeing in the faint morning light what looks like the second floor hallway.

Cobwebs are stuck in his hair, and his hands and feet are disgustingly filthy.

If this keeps happening, Sonny tells himself, he seriously needs to see a doctor and get a sleep aid. Hoping his sleepwalking is done for the night, he goes to clean himself up, to swallow some water for his dry throat. And promptly locks himself in his bedroom.


	17. Danse Macabre

Hours later, Sonny takes the load of books out of Abi's arms, then gives her a peck on the cheek. "You didn't have to do all this just to grab these for me. I could've come to you, saved you the trouble."

"I don't mind. I wasn't going in anyway, and had time to kill. And truthfully…" She takes a slow breath, then turns around in a circle. "I wanted to prove to myself I wasn't just gonna run and hide when I came back here."

"How are you, by the way?"

"I'm okay." She lets out another slow breath, before nodding maybe a little too vigorously. "I'm just fine." Then she frowns as the dark circles under Sonny's eyes. "You, however, look like you're about to keel over."

"Haven't been sleeping too good." But Sonny doesn't want to talk about his dreams, or the sleepwalking. Or the sounds that keep waking him up in the middle of the night. "Come into the kitchen so I can stroke my ego. I've got some lemonade--not freshly squeezed, but it's cold and refreshing."

"Okay." She touches his arm in silent acknowledgement, and because she knows what he really means, lightens up. "Only have about half an hour, but I have some interesting information. Both informative, and speculative. What's up with that?"

She looks into the smoking room, where there's papers stacked all over the floor, books left open, piles of paint and fabric samples.

"New project. Thought I'd start on a room people can actually sit in when it's finished. What kind of info did you get for me?"

"The Hortons and DiMeras. Which was easy enough to track down." she says as they keep walking through the house. "Gino DiMera married Adelaide Horton. Both come from well respected families. Gino was the CEO and founder of DiMera Enterprises, which he was planning on passing down to one of his sons. It's rumored they were known for using their money to buy power and influence in this town. Oh my God, Sonny!"

She walks into the kitchen, beaming at the base cabinets he's installed. "They're beautiful!"

Sonny sticks his hands into his back pockets, giving her a crooked smile, "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Because I am. In the best most flattering way. Chad can't even hammer a nail to hang a painting." She runs a hand over the wood, testing the door by opening and closing it. "These are really impressive. You should be so proud of yourself."

"I'm definitely pleased with the results. The guys that did the counters just left. I'm going with a solid surface. It's gonna look like granite. Ordered this huge fridge-- for reasons even I can't even justify-- and a stove and dishwasher. I'm gonna make all the panels so you can see the wood."

Sonny puts the books on a sheet of plywood he has over the top of the cabinets. "Want that lemonade now?"

"I'd like that." She walks into the dining room behind him. He already has two of the top cabinets finished, and already starting on a third. "These are going to be so beautiful. You have to be working day and night."

And losing a lot of weight, Abi thinks. Which is starting to show on your face.

"I'll take that over sleepwalking any day." He's jittery, finding himself tucking his hands back into his pockets to stop them from shaking. "Tell me more about the history."

"Okay." Abi has to fight the urge to worry over him and goes back to her information. "The original owners lost most of their money during World War One. They managed to hang in there, selling off pieces of their land, or renting to farmers. Theirs and the Horton/DiMeras' political views were on opposite ends. There was some sort of fire, that succeeded in burning the whole place to the ground. Wiped everyone out. The Horton/DiMeras bought it, and had this place built on top of it. Both already had a son from previous marriages, Tom and Santo. Both went to Rosalind Franklin, where Tom did very well, and Santo's major might as well have been drinking and screwing. Tom was the heir, and was meant to take over as CEO of DiMera Enterprises. Most of the DiMera's money was gone, but Adelaide had a trust fund. Both Tom and Santo died before they turned 24."

Sonny hands her a glass, "How?"

"This is where we wander into the rumors and speculation." Abi sips her drink. "The most popular one is they killed each other. Nobody knows why, ony that it was a family squabble that turned sour. It's said Tom went to Chicago, under his mother's orders, to retrieve his step-brother from one of the whore houses he was known for frequenting. Santo didn't want to be retrieved, they fought, and one of them--my money's on Santo-- pulled a knife. They fought over the knife, both got hurt, and Tom died. Santo stuck around for another week, then somehow got up out of bed, came outside, fell into the pond and drowned."

The pond, Sonny thinks, covered in lily pads, giving off mist in the early morning. "God, those poor parents."

"Gino's heart gave out a few years later. Adelaide went on to live for several years after that, but her financial luck finally ran out. She still had the house, along with some of the land, but she was as good as broke. Again, there's more speculation Santo bled her dry with his drinking and screwing, and could never get it back."

"Chad said there was a grandson. Tom or Santo's?"

"That's even more speculation. The records indicated Tom married an Alice Grayson in 1940, and a son was born a year later, there's no record of Alice's death. After Tom died, the Hortons/DiMeras legally disowned the grandson. Wrote him right out of the will. Apparently he was raised by the Graysons. I couldn't find anything on Alice Grayson besides her birth and wedding certificates."

"Maybe they threw her out when Tom died."

"Could be. I talked to Chad about it." She wanders by the windows, looking out at the trashed gardens. "He was a bit vague, but swears he remembers hearing rumors about her running off with another man."

Abi turns back around. "The stories on the Grayson side are quite different. They claim there was foul play at work. You might get a better picture of her, and what probably happened, if you talked to the Graysons or the Hortons."

"A better picture of a woman who may or may not have run off or passed away several decades ago."

"Sonny, come on. This is Salem. Several decades ago might as well have been a week ago. She was barely of age when she married Tom. She was a Grayson. His family never would've approved of their relationship. I highly doubt her life here was anything to brag about. Who says she didn't run off? Then again...I did see something, or someone upstairs, in that room. I don't even believe in ghosts. Or didn't." Abi fights off a shudder. "I still don't know what to believe now, but I sure as hell am going to find out."

"I'll ask Marlena. And Will. I'm going out with him on Monday.

"Oh really?" Just the suggestion makes her whole face light up. "Looks like we're about to hear more rumors and speculation." She hands him her glass. "I have to get going. I'll send Chad out here tomorrow morning to help you out and stop him from driving me insane. I have a ftting for my wedding dress, as well as other wedding details."

"I'll definitely keep him busy."

"Come into town with him." Abi suggests as she gets ready to leave. She wants nothing more than to grab Sonny and and drag him out by force, get him away from here. "We can go out to eat, see a movie."

"You don't need to worry about me, Abi."

"I can't help it! I keep thinking about you all the way out here, in this house by yourself, with that room upstairs." She steals an uneasy glance up the stairs. "Makes my skin crawl."

"Ghosts can't hurt me." Sonny kisses her cheek. "They're already dead."

But that night, by the sound of the rain and wind, and even with the protection of the holy water, they definitely didn't feel already dead.

He lets himself have Sunday off. Sleeping late, waking up to a sky trying to clear, and spent an extra hour in bed with the books Abi gave him.

She'd marked aged she thought would appeal to him the most. He scans and studies the old photos of the town's mansions. A thrill rushes through him as he looks at the old black and white picture of the DiMera mansion in its glory days.

The formal photos of Gino DiMera and Adelaide Horton did not get the same reaction. Only mild curiosity was to be found with them. The woman was definitely beautiful, very up with the times in the 40s with her ball gown, paired with the combs in her hair.

The gown, tucked into such a tiny waist, made her look so delicate, highlighted by the skirt of her dress, as well as the sleeves that went perfectly with the gloves.

But her eyes are cold, the kind of coldness Sonny's almost positive wasn't because of the way she's posed, or the bad quality of the photograph. It overshadows her delicacy, making her look dangerous.

But it's the picture of Thomas Horton that stops him cold.

He knows that face, from his dream. The handsome young man with the dark hair, coming out of a car coming up the driveway.

Power of suggestion? Was he just hoping the person he saw was real, and now he's just seeing it in Tom's face?

Regardless, it succeeds in creeping him the hell out.

He decides to drive into Chicago, treating himself to a few hours of antiquing.

Which would be great, if he hadn't given up an hour later and instead found himself walking into Doug's Place.


	18. It's Not a Date

Business is booming on Sunday afternoons, Sonny notes. Combination of tourists passing through and the townsfolk. He takes pride in the fact that he can actually tell one from the other. A speaker plays the music this time, a soft tune that carries itself around the chit chat between the tables and the bar.

The smell of fried chicken wings reminds Sonny he hasn't eaten anything today. Recognizing the co owner from the second time he was here, Sonny walks up to him, smiling politely, "Hi. Is Will here?"

"Office. In the kitchen."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

He gives the door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY a quick knock, then just goes ahead and sticks his head in. He's sitting at his desk, typing away on a computer. His hair was more brushed back, making Sonny want to kiss his way up that gorgeous neck.

"Hi. How are you?"

Will sits back, stretching lazily, "Hello. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Just happened to be in town, wondering if you'll let me buy you lunch. Sort of a prologue for tomorrow night."

In truth, Will had been thinking about Sonny, a lot more than he was comfortable admitting. ANd here he is, tall, dark and handsome. "Just doing some bookkeeping."

"And now I can see I walked right in the middle of it. Ain't that a bitch?" Sonny still comes in anyway, sitting on the edge of the desk. "Bought you something."

Only then does Will take note of that tiny gift bag Sonny's holding. "That's way too small to hold a brand new bike."

"Baby steps."

Will keeps his eyes on Sonny's for another moment before taking the bag from him. Then he reaches in for the box inside. It's wrapped in white paper, with a golden bow. He takes his time, always believing the anticipation is almost always better than the gift itself.

The bow and he tucks neatly back into the bag, and after he fiddles with the top, slides out the box, folding the paper into neat squares.

"Does you always take this long to open presents on Christmas morning?" Sonny asks.

"I just like taking my time." Will finally opens the box, feeling his mouth twitch, but keeps his face neutral as he takes out the black and white vampire and dracula salt and pepper shakers.

"Well aren't they the handsome devils?"

"I thought so too. They had dogs too, but I think these guys look so proud of themselves."

"This is another part of you trying to win me over, isn't it?"

"Course. How'd I do?"

"Not bad." Will traces a finger over the white cat's cape. 'Definitely not bad at all."

"Good, good. Now that I've succeeded in disrupting your day, and managed to win you over just a little bit, why don't you let me put some food in your stomach? Pay you back for cooking for me?"

Will eases back in his chair, swiveling it around as he considers. "Why is it every time I see you, my first instinct is to get as far away from you as possible?"

"You got me. Anyway, I'm probably faster than you, so trust me when I say nay running you could do would be thwarted." Sonny leans over the desk, lifting his eyebrows. He's wearing dress pants, really nice dress pants. He might be faster, but he wouldn't look half as good in dress socks. "But you could definitely give me a run for my money. What's with the getup?"

"It's not a getup. I just came back from church." Now Will's smiling. "A name like yours, I would've thought you'd be Catholic."

"Guilty as charged."

"Were you in one of the pews, Sonny?"

There's no way in hell he can explain why tat question makes him so uncomfortable. "I guess you could say I'm half lapsed."

"Oh." Will purses his lips. "Marlena's gonna be disappointed. What's your middle name?"

"I'll tell you if you come to lunch with me." Sonny reaches over for the cats, making them dance. "Come on, WIll. Play with me. It's a nice day. Meow."

"Okay, okay." Big mistake, Will's rational mind tells him, but he gets to his feet, picking up his bag. "You can buy me lunch. But only something quick." Will leans over to save a file on his computer, then shuts it down.

"It's Steven." Sonny says, holding a hand out. "Jackson Steven Kiriakis. If I was any more Greek, I'd bleed wine."

"It's Robert. William Robert Horton."

"Very Anglo-Saxxon."

"Indeed. And I want Mexican." Will takes Sonny's hand. "I'm craving tacos."

From his experiences in the past, Sonny knows not to judge places by appearance. So when Will leads him to an unmarked food truck, Sonny's not skeptical. One sniff, and he knows their food is gonna be delicious.

Will waves his hand at someone, pointing to a vacant table, and apparently gets permission t sit.

"Not a date." Will tells Sonny as he holds his chair.

Sonny does his best to pretend he doesn't know what Will's talking about. "It's not?"

"No it is not." Will sits back, slightly crossing his legs. "A date is when we have time set to spend time together and you pick me up. This is a coincidence. Tomorrow is our first date. In case you're thinking of the three date rule."

"I was hoping you didn't know about that."

Will's lips curve in a small smile. "There's a lot you'd be surprised to know I know." He keeps his eyes on Sonny's, but lifts a hand to the guy who's walking up to the table. "Hey, Neil."

"Will." He kisses Will's cheek, then says, "Good to see you."

"This is Chad's friend from way back, Sonny. Thought he should know what a real taco tastes like."

"No place better than right here." Neil shakes Sonny's hand. "Just me in the truck today."

"Then the food's gonna be twice as awesome." Will says. "How are you?"

Sonny sees it then. When Will shifts in his chair, lifting his face, looks at Neil, it's like they're the only ones in existence. Sex was definitely part of it, but also...perception, Sonny decides.

They proceed to chat for a few minutes, but Sonny keeps himself entertained by watching Will's face. The way he lifts his eyebrows, lets them fall, then draws them back together depending on what's being said. How his lips move, punctuated by his teeth.

When Will turns his head, Sonny shakes his. "Sorry, were you talking to me? I was watching you. Must've been distracted."

"Quite the smooth talker, isn't he?" Neil says.

"Handsome too, ain't he?"

"Very. Will here's gonna have the shrimp tacos. You know what you want yet, or do you still need to decide?"

"Don't get the same as me." Will holds up a finger before Sonny can say anything. "No point in trying to pick off your plate. Try the mole enchiladas. Neil's got the magic touch."

"Mole enchiladas it is." Something tells Sonny he'd try something straight from the garbage if he'd asked him to. "Want a margarita?"

"No. You're driving, and I'm working."

"So, make that one?" Sonny looks at Neil."

"I'll bring you one."

"So…" Will brushes a hand to move some of his hair off his forehead, as Neil walks away. "What've you been up to today?"

"Thought I'd try my hand at antiquing. Looking for a display cabinet for the kitchen, along with some china to put in it. Then I thought I'd go by to see Marlena on the way back. What does she like? I want to get her something."

"You don't have to get something for her."

"I know. But I'd still like to."

Will hooks an arm over the back of his chair, drumming his fingers on the table as he scrutinizes him. "Get her a fountain pen then. A good one. Tell me something, Sonny. You're not using my grandma Marlena to get in good with me, are you?"

Will watches as the fierce defensiveness flashes in his eyes-- darker, more fierce than he was expecting. He really should've known, WIll thinks, that underneath that happy-go-lucky exterior, there's something broken, something dangerous. It's impressive, but what's even more impressive is the quick change from mild to defensive, then back to mild.

Anyone who can hold themselves back like that, Will decides, has the will of a saint. That's something else he needs to think about.

"No, you have that bass-ackwards." Sonny tells him. "I'm using you to get in good with Marlena. She's the love of my life."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be."

Will waits until Sonny's drink is brought out first. Sonny's tone definitely has Will on edge. Mostly, Will can safely admit, because he's deserved to be snapped back at. Folding his arms on the table, Will leans forward.

"I really am sorry. That was a dick move, and I knew that before I even said it. There's something I need to tell you, Sonny. I have a tendency to shoot my mouth off regardless of how nasty the words might be. And half the time I don't show any remorse. I'm not the sweet innocent golden baby gay. I don't trust easily. I have some good qualities, but I have way more bad. And I'm okay with that."

Sonny copies Will's posture, "I'm single-minded, jealous and moody. I have a short fuse. It doesn't take much for it to blow its top, which is unfortunate for the general population. I don't always have to have things my way on the small stuff, but when I know what I want, I try my absolute best to get it. I want you, in whatever form I can get you."


	19. It's Still Not a Date

Will was wrong. Sonny's not back to mild at all. There's still anger behind those eyes. As someone who insists on being the only one he can be completely honest with, Will doesn't even try to pretend he's not excited.

"You're trying to piss me off."

"No, that's just a bonus." Sonny eases back, picking up the chip basket and offering it to Will, "You wanna have this out right now?"

Sulking, Will takes a chip. "Maybe later. Getting pissed just kills my appetite. Anyhow," Will shrugs, biting the chip. "You don't want to go by my grandma's today. She's visiting with family."

"Then I'll just stop by later in the week. Already have the kitchen counters installed. Chad helped me out, more or less, with the wall units just yesterday. SHould be finished in a week or two."

"Congratulations." Will wants to stew some more, and knows by Sonny's amused expression he knows it. "You been back to that room?"

"Yeah, I have." He'd had to take a good shot of whiskey first, before he'd even considered it, but he had gone back inside. "Didn't pass out this time, but definitely had a bad panic attack. Which really isn't like me at all. I found out about more of the DiMera/Horton family history too, but there's still a bunch of blanks. Maybe you can fill them in."

"You're talking about Alice Grayson."

"Yep. How much do you--was." Sonny cuts himself off because Will's attention has turned back towards Neil, who brought out their food. Sonny reminds himself as they partake in casual conversation about their food, that food takes a lot longer in small towns.

"How much do you know about her?" Sonny asks, once they're alone.

Will picks up a taco, bringing it up to his lips. He sighs deeply as he swallows. "Neil Hultgren. He's an angel in the kitchen. Try yours." he orders, then leans over to take a sample for himself.

"It's awesome. Best meal I've had since microwaved eggs."

Will smiles at him, a long, slow one that settles in Sonny's gut, before they go back to eating. "I only know stories that were passed down in my family. Nobody really knows. Alice, she was the help in the mansion. Some of the richer families, they hired people from the lower class ones to keep house for them. The story goes that Thomas Horton came home from Rosalind Franklin and fell in love with her. Then they eloped. They had to, because they'd never have approved. His, nor hers."

Will breaks off another chip, nibbling on it as he studies Sonny. "Mixing families is generally frowned upon. He moved her into the mansion shortly after, and that was frowned on too. People say Adelaide Horton was quite the hard ass, proud and strict. People started counting, but that baby didn't come until ten months later."

"That means the room upstairs had to have been the nursery. Or a makeshift one, where they kept the baby."

"Most likely. They had a nurse. She married someone in Alice's family much later. Most of the stories about the mansion came from her. A couple days before the new year, Tom was away in Chicago on business. He came back to find Alice missing. They said she'd run of with a family friend of the Grayson's she'd been having an affair with. The nurse, her name was...Henderson. And she was pretty clear Alice never would've left Tom or the baby. She said something terrible had to have happened, and even blamed herself because she had left to meet her boyfriend by the river the night Alice vanished."

A dead woman on the bed in a freezing cold room, Sonny thinks, as the tortilla from his enchilada sticks in his throat. He picks up his margarita, taking a heavy drink. "Did they even look for her?"

"Her whole family looked everywhere. It's said you could find Tom at that river all the way up until the day he died. When he wasn't there, he was in town to find some trace of where she could be. But he never did, and as a result didn't live long after. With him dead, and the step brother Adelaide favored more, also dead, Adelaide took the baby to Alice's parents. Jesus, Sonny, are you okay? You're not looking so good."

"I don't feel so good either. Keep going."

This time, when Will takes yet another chip, he dips it in the salsa, handing it to Sonny. Grandma's right, Will thinks, this guy doesn't eat nearly enough.

"The baby was my grandma's father. The Hortons/DiMera's shunned him, calling him a bastard child and had none of the bloodline in him. They brought him to the Graysons with the baby clothes he was wearing, and a small bag of his toys. Only thing he had from the DiMera mansion was the hourglass necklace Henderson had given him, because it had belonged to Alice."

Sonny immediately shoots out a hand to place over Will's, "Does that necklace still exist?"

"It was handed down, person to person. My grandma Marlena gave it to me when I turned 18. Why?"

"Bronze hourglass necklace, hanging from a small chain."

Color stains Will's cheeks, "How the hell do you know what it looks like?"

"I saw it." The chill runs down Sonny's spine. "On the dresser in the bedroom. It was probably hers. A vacant room," He continues. "With disappearing furniture. The room where Abi saw a dead woman lying on the bed. They murdered her, didn't they?"

The way Sonny says that, so harsh and flat makes Will sick to his stomach. "That's exactly what people are saying. People in my family."

"In the makeshift nursery."

"I have no idea. You're starting to really freak me out, Sonny."

"I'm scaring you?" Sonny rubs a hand over his face. "Well, now I know who the ghost is. Poor Alice, wandering the halls, waiting for Tom to come back."

"But if she died in the mansion, who murdered her?"

"Maybe that's my job to figure out. So she can, you know...be put to rest."

He's not so pale now, Will thinks. His face hardened. That single minded determination. "Why does it have to be you?"

"Why not? It was probably one of the Horton/DiMeras. Mother, father, stepbrother. Then they buried her somewhere and claimed she took off. I need to know more about her."

"I'm pretty sure you will. You've got quite a stubborn streak in you. Don't know what about it is so appealing. Talk to my grandma Marlena. She'll either know more, or know somebody that does."

Will pushes his empty plate back. "Now you can buy us some coffee."

"What about dessert?"

"Not enough room." Will trails a fingertip over the back of Sonny's hand, and just for the hell of it, rubs the side of his foot against Sonny's leg.

"How's your self-control?" he asks.

"I have a feeling it's about to be tested."

It's almost dark when he gets back to the mansion. The trunk and the backseat are loaded with stuff he'd found in antique shops. But the real jackpot of the day was the cabinet he found, and practically had to beg and even bribe them to deliver the next day.

He carries what he can on the first trip, and when he gets inside, sets it all down in the sitting room.

He closes the door behind him, standing very still.

"Alice." He says her name, listens to how it echoes throughout the house. And waits.

But there's no blast of cold air, no sudden shift in the quiet.

And yet, as he stands at the bottom of the stairs, he still can't explain how he just knows he's not alone.


	20. Call Me on the Ouija Board

When Sonny wakes up, it's to a crashing thunderstorm, but at least it's from the luxury of their own bed. Lightning bangs outside, casting a burst of light throughout the room.

A glance at his clock shows it's a minute to midnight. But there's no way that's right, Sonny thinks. He didn't go to sleep until after one. Wondering if the storm caused a power outage, he turns on a lamp.

Light illuminates the room, temporarily blinding him.

"Goddamnit." Sonny rubs his startled eyes, then grabs the bottle of water he'd left on the nightstand. Getting up, he goes out on the veranda to watch the rest of the storm.

It's well worth the price of admission, he decides. The rain, the crackling lightning, and the wind blowing through the trees in shrieks and howls. He can hear the fierce blitzkrieg of the roaring thunder.

And a baby crying.

The water bottle slips out of his hands, bounces by his feet, getting them wet.

He's not dreaming, Sonny reminds himself, and reaches out to grip the wet railing. He's not sleepwalking. He's wide awake, completely aware of what's around him. And he's still hearing the baby crying.

He had to force himself to move, but he manages to walk back into the bedroom, pulling on some sweatpants, and checks his flashlight. Barefoot and topless, he leaves the safety of his bedroom and starts towards the makeshift nursery.

He expects the panic to set in-- that unsettling feeling in his stomach, the air that can't reach his lungs, the heart skipping a beat.

But there's none of that this time. Every step he takes is just a step, and the nursery's door is just a door, same goes for the doorknob that still needs a good polish.

And the baby's finally stopped crying.

"I'm already here." Sonny mutters.

His palms are slick with sweat, but it's more from nerves than outright fear. He reaches for the doorknob, turns it. The door opens with only a whine of the hinges.

There's a small fire in the fireplace. The light, coupled with the light of the candles, dance in unusual patterns over the pale walls. The windows were draped with curtains that had cute little flowers on the fringe. The floor is well polished, like a mirror, with two rugs in a pattern of pin and green.

There's a crib with rails, a small cot made up with linens.

She sits in a rocking chair, a baby sucking her teat. Sonny can see the baby's hand on it. The woman's hair was down, going past her shoulders, over the arms of the chair.

Her lips are moving, whether from singing or telling a bedtime story, Sonny can't tell. He can't hear anything. But she's only looking at the baby as she nurses, her face lit up with the purest love.

"You never left him." Sonny says softly. "It's not possible."

She looks up, towards where he's standing, and for one heartstopping moment, Sonny thinks she heard him. Was gonna say something to him. When she smiles, holds out a hand, Sonny takes a step towards her.

Then he feels his knees buckle when he sees the man from across the room--pass right through him like a gust of wind-- and walk towards her.

His hair is black. He's tall as he is slim. He's wearing a robe of royal blue. When he kneels by the rocking chair, he strokes a finger over the baby's cheek, then over the little fingers kneading her teat.

The woman, Alice, lifts her hand, pushing down on his. And right there, surrounded by that soft light, the three of them linked together while the baby's mouth sucks as the woman gently rocks back and forth.

"No. You'd never leave them. I'm going to find out what they did to you. All of you."

As he speaks, the door slams shut behind him. Sonny jolts, spinning around and finding himself once again in the dark, with only the light from the lightning and his flashlight. The weight falls on his chest like a rock, cutting off the air to his lungs. The room is empty again, freezing cold, and the panic jumps into his throat.

He drags at the doorknob, his sweat soaked hands sliding off the cold metal. He can feel his strangled gasping wanting to turn into shouting and screaming, begging and praying. Disorientation brings him to his knees, where he frantically fumbles for the doorknob, yanks and wrenches the door.

When he finally gets it open, he's crawling out on his hands and knees, then lies face down on the floor, heart reverberating in his chest as the storm continues to blast over the house.

"I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay, damnit, and I'm gonna get the hell off this floor and go back to bed."

He may not be sleeping, Sonny thinks as he gets to his feet, legs shaking, but he found out a few things he hadn't known before.

If what he'd seen in that nursery was real and not some subconscious projection, Alice Grayson Horton had not left the DiMera mansion willingly.

And there is most definitely more than one ghost still haunting this place.


	21. Fly Me to the Moon

He is most definitely making a mistake, Will thinks as he slips a nice flannel shirt onto his body. He's already made several mistakes with Sonny Kiriakis. It really annoys him, because he rarely ever makes mistakes with guys.

If there's one thing he's learned from his last serious ex, it's how to handle men. What not to do. He made it a habit of doing the exact opposite of what he'd done with Leo.

This mindset has kept Will's heart intact for years. He has no desire, and no plans, to put it in another man's hands. Figuratively of course, he thinks with a smirk as he uses some chapstick.

He likes being in the right guy's hands well enough, when he wants to.

A man who doesn't like sex, in his mind, just didn't think to pick and choose his bedfellows. A smart gay guy calls out men willing and able to learn how that guy wants to be satisfied. And a guy that's satisfied would be more willing to put in the effort to give the guy something right back.

It's a win-win.

But that just brings him back to the current problem. Sonny somehow makes Will want to jump in bed every goddamn second they're together. He's not used to following his hormonal instincts.

The smartest, safest thing for a guy in his position to do about sex is to be the one in control. To decide exactly when it was gonna happen, where they were gonna do it, who with, and how it winds up happening. Other men, they were just horny by nature. He can hardly blame them for that, being one himself.

And anyone who says they haven't tried to rile someone up on purpose is cruel, or lying through their teeth.

If Will honestly thought he and Sonny are heading towards a casual relationship that's gonna start and end on mutual attraction, this wouldn't even be a concern. But there's so much more to this guy than that. Way too many layers, he thinks, and Will just can't seem to peel them all back and figure out who he really is.

Even more concerning, was the underlying reaction he had that wasn't lust. That as well was complicated and mysterious.

He likes Sonny's looks, and the confidence in his voice. And then he'd gone and hit the weak spot with the obvious shine he'd taken to his grandma Marlena.

Knows how to make him all hot and bothered too, he admits. The guy definitely knows how to put that mouth to work.

And when he wasn't focused, a hurt look in his eyes. Will's always been a sucker for bleeding hearts.

The right thing to do here is to take it slow. Will arches his back, spraying a spritz of cologne over his skin. Nice and easy. No point in speeding towards the exit before you've enjoyed the view.

Will trails his hands over his chest, imagining Sonny's fingers there. His mouth.

It's been forever since he's wanted a guy this...adamantly, he realizes with a start. Now that it's too late for a one night stand, the smart thing would be to get to know him better, before Will lets him think he's talking him into bed.

"Of course you're right on time." Will comments out loud, upon hearing the knock on his door. He looks in the mirror one last time, then walks to the front door.

He looks really good in a blazer. Very classy, Will decides. He reaches out, running the navy blue lapel between his fingers. "Well. Don't you clean up real nice."

"...I'm sorry, but all the blood seems to have been drained out of my head, and all I'm capable of saying is wow."

Will flashes him a knowing smirk and turns in a slow circle. "This work for you?"

The shirt hugs him, making Sonny's glands get excited. "It's definitely working out great."

Will crooks a finger, "Come here a sec."

Will steps back, then slides a hand through Sonny's arm and turns toward a framed mirror. "Aren't we quite the pair?" Will says, laughing at Sonny's expression. "So where are we headed tonight?"

"Whaddaya say we find out?" He picks up a scarf, draping it around his neck. "You sure you'll be warm enough?"

"If I'm not, then my outfit's definitely not doing its job." Will starts to reach for Sonny's hand, before he winds up staring at the limo parked outside.

Rarely ever is Will caught completely off guard, but it takes about 9 seconds before he makes himself say something, to keep his wits about him. "Did you buy this?"

"No no, it's just a rental. This way, we can drink all we want tonight."

As far as first dates go, Will thinks as Sonny leads him down the stairs, this one has a lot of potential. Which only gets better when the driver opens the door to welcome him inside.

There's two silver buckets. One holds a bottle of champagne, the other a bouquet of orange peonies.

"Roses would've been trite." Sonny explains, as he pulls out one of them and offers it to Will. "And you're anything but."

Will inhales the scent of the rose deeply. "This how you treat all your boyfriends back in Chicago?"

Sonny pours out a flute of champagne, handing it to Will, "There are no other boyfriends."

Knocked off kilter, Will takes a sip, "You're blowing me away, Sonny."

"That's the idea." He taps his glass with Will's. "I'm really good at riding an idea all the way out."

Will leans back, crossing his legs in a deliberately slow motion he knows will make Sonny look at them. "You're quite a vicious guy. You know what makes you even moreso? Nobody ever see it unless someone manages to try and look underneath the hard exterior."

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Will."

"Like hell you won't." But Will still gives a small delighted laugh. "That's just part of the fun. Part of the fun. And so far, I definitely am."

Turns out Sonny's idea of a first date is an elegant French black tie restaurant with muted lightning, and the corner table is designed for couples such as themselves.

Another bottle of champagne arrives within seconds of them being seated, which tips Will off to the fact that Sonny panned this. And probably has a lot more planned as well.

"I was told the food here leaves a lasting impression. The house is sometime in the twentieth century." Sonny continues."Colonial Revival, and belonged to an artist. Privatized home until about ten years ago."

"Is researching a restaurant's history one of your quirks?"

"Basking in the ambience. Especially in Chicago. That also goes for the food. I'm told the Soupe à l'oignon is the house specialty.

"Then one of us should order it." Intrigued, Will pushes his menu to the side. He's not just a fun guy, Will thinks. He's not just hot and smart. He's intriguing. "This time you get to pick."

His order is in fluent French, from the appetizers right down to the Gâteau au yaourt, which tells Will this is a man well acquainted with eating in fine dining restaurants.

"Your French is incredible, at least when it comes to ordering. Do you actually speak French?"

"Yeah, but other French dialects are still a bit tough."

"Have you ever actually been to Paris?"

"I lived there."

Will leans forward the way he had before, arms folded on the edge of a table, eyes locked with Sonny's. "Is it as incredible as I imagine?"

"Better."

"I'd kill to be able to go. Paris, Rome, Dubai and Greece." They're wild, vibrant dreams of his, and the thought of being able to go is almost as exciting as the wanting. "I take it you've been there too?"

"Not Rome. Not yet. My old job had me traveling a lot, so I got to see a lot of the world."

"Which one was your favorite?" Will rests his elbows on the table, chin resting on his laced fingers. "Out of everywhere?"

"Tough call. The beaches in Dubai, the Tuscany hills, the cafes in Paris. But at the moment, my favorite place to be is right here."

"There's that smooth talk I know and love. Tell me about Chicago then."

"It's a city of great architectural importance." When Will laughs, Sonny sits back and lets it wash over him. "Oh, you meant…"

"Tell me about your family. Any siblings?"

"Four brothers. Two biological, two adopted."

"Big fat Greek family, huh?"

"Are you serious? Dad's an only child, Mom's got two brothers as well, one with three kids, the other with two. And one of them has two grandkids. We're not just a family, we're a faction."

"You miss them, don't you?"

"Do I? Fine, yes I do." Sonny admits reluctantly. "Now that I'm a safe distance away from everyone, turns out I actually like them."

"Think they'll ever visit you?"

"In the distant future. Everyone's waiting for my mom to make the first move. In our family, if it's not one thing, it's the mother."

Will samples the appetizer Sonny had picked out for him. He doesn't wear any rings, which makes Sonny wonder why. Will has really nice hands, slim, delicate, soft. The key necklace still rests against his smooth, pale skin. But his fingers and wrists are completely bare. Wonderfully bare, Sonny realizes, and wonders if it's some kind of ploy to make him notice every line, curve, every sweep of his body.

Whatever the case, it's definitely working on him.


	22. Promises

"Is she mad at you? Your mom?"

Sonny has to blink himself back to the conversation. "I wouldn't say mad. Annoyed, or confused. If she was mad, she wouldn't just tell me. She'd be all up in my face, chipping away at my self-esteem until I finally give in."

"Does she even want you to be happy?"

"Of course she does. We love each other so much it's ridiculous. She'd just be a lot happier if I was happy with her idea of happiness."

Will angles his head, and once again Sonny catches a flash of silver from the chain on his neck. "Why don't you just tell her how she's hurting you?"

"What?"

"If she doesn't know she's hurting you, how is she supposed to stop?"

"I disappointed them."

"No, you did not." Will replies, with a sort of sympathetic exasperation. "You seriously mean to tell me your family would rather you were unhappy and miserable? Still with a guy that wouldn't even tell anyone about you, in a career you never even wanted in the first place?"

"No. Yes." Sonny replies. "I don't really know."

"Then the next thing you should do is ask them."

"Do you have any siblings?"

'Yes, but we're not talking about me tonight. We can do that another night. Tonight's all about you. Did you find what you're looking for at the antique shops?"

"That's putting it mildly." More comfortable talking about his work than his family, he gives Will a play-by-play that gets them all the way to the main course.

"How do you know what you want for the room before it's even finished?"

"Just do." Sonny shrugs. "I really can't explain. I have this incredible sofa on hold for one of the rooms upstairs. That's my next project, and it's nowhere near as big as the kitchen job. Mostly just walls and floors. I want a head start on the interiors so i can focus on the verandas, the stairs, getting the painting started in April, if time's that generous. That way we're back inside before the summer heat."

"Why are you working yourself so hard? It's not like that mansion is going anywhere."

"Remember that single-minded, jealous attitude I was talking about?"

"That doesn't mean you can't relax a little bit. How many hours a week are you putting in?"

"No idea. Ten, maybe twelve a day?" Then Sonny smiles, reaching for Will's hand.

"Are you actually worried about me? I'll gladly take more time off if it means we can spend more time together."

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm not that worried." But Will doesn't move his hand away, just lets it be held against that rough, calloused palm. "Still, St. Patrick's Day is coming. If you don't take time off for that, you might as well not be in Chicago, or Salem." Will looks as the waiter sets down the Gâteau au yaourt in front of them. "Oh wow. Wow." Will leans forward, closes his eyes, and inhales, before laughing as he opens them again. "What happened to yours?"

Sonny takes him dancing after, at a nightclub called the Spot, that plays a wonderful mixture of fast and slow songs, surprising Will by keeping him on the dance floor until his legs are about to snap.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"You bet I am." Sonny pulls him into his arms, making his blood pressure spike when his hands run down his body, gripping his hips. Will's body rolls against Sonny's, like a wave sliding against another wave.

Sonny dips him, has Will laughing even as Will's pulse speeds up. Will lets his head fall back, lets his sweaty hair stick to his face as Sonny lowers his face towards his. Sonny's lips barely touch his chin, with just the slightest touch of teeth, before sweeping Wil up again, dancing around him, reeling him in.

The light's are hot and colorful, and Sonny's movements are so flexible, it's like watching a beautiful gymnast. The longing Will's not prepared for unfurls in his gut. Closing his eyes, Will reaches a hand into Sonny's hair, pulling his face closer, that one inch of separation closing so his mouth meets his.

"You belong, Will. We belong together."

Will shakes his head, turns to rest his cheek against Sonny's. "If you're half as good in bed as you are on the dance floor, you have to have at least a dozen guys you've already left in the dust."

"Give me a chance to show you." Sonny nips Will's earlobe, feels Will shiver in response. "I want you. I know how you feel under my hands. I've been dreaming about it."

Will keeps his eyes closed, trying to keep the longing at bay. "Let's just dance. It's getting late, and I want to dance to one more song."

Will rests his head on Sonny's shoulder. The music, wine, and the lights are still playing in his head, behind his eyelids. He feels like he's been hit with a tsunami of romance, and knowing that's exactly what Sonny was after didn't make it any less so. If anything, it magnifies it.

This is a man who cares about the details. Big and small. With the house he's bought, with the man he took on a date.

Will respects the hell out of that. Respects the hell out of Sonny.

"You really know how to show a guy a good time."

"Let me show you again tomorrow night."

"Can't. I have work."

"Then on your next night off."

"I'll definitely have to think about that. I'm not playing games, Sonny." Will sits up so he can actually look at him. "I don't like games. I'm being careful. Not too sure I like that either, but as far as you're concerned, I think it's the right thing to do. And I like being rational."

As the limo parks on the street outside Will's apartment, he trails a finger down Sonny's cheek. "Now walk me to my door, and kiss me goodnight."


	23. Tonight

Sonny carries the bucket with the orange peonies, setting them down by Will's front door, before framing his face with his hands.

This kiss is much sweeter than Will was expecting.

He had been prepared for the heat, the hot, persuasive heat that would make all of his resistance evaporate. But instead, Sonny gives him sweet and gentle, finishing the night how it started. With romance.

"What about before you head in to work?" Sonny lifts Will's hand to his lips. "Take you on a picnic?"

Startled, Will just stares at him. "A picnic?"

"Beautiful weather for it. Spread out a blanket by the river. Try your hand at tossing the ball in there. I like watching you jump in after it."

"Goddamnit." Will takes Sonny's face in his own hands this time. "Godfuckingdmnit. Get your ass down to that rented limo right fucking now."

"Okay." Sonny touches Will's face. "Can I at least wait until you're inside?"

"Get your ass down to that limo." Will repeats, "And pay the driver for the night, and tell him his services are no longer needed. Then come back so I can invite you inside."

Realization dawning, Sonny gently grabs Will's wrists, to feel his pulse against his fingers. "Give me five minutes. Please don't change your mind. Two." Sonny amends. "You can even time me."

As Sonny goes bounding down the stairs, Will picks up the flowers, unlocking the door and letting himself inside.

If this is a mistake, Will thinks, it won't be his first, and definitely not the last.

Will lights the candles, putting on some mood setting music. Sex is supposed to be easy, Will reminds himself. When it's between two single and consenting adults with a fraction of romantic attraction along with the sexual, it's supposed to be something worth celebrating.

Whether or not he's being coerced is entirely up to him. No point in beating himself up over something he hasn't even done yet.

Sonny knocks on the door. Just the idea that he did, instead of just barging right in, makes Will smile. Well mannered and sexy. It's an intoxicating combination. Completely enticing.

Will opens the door, and the music comes blasting out. Sonny slides his hands into his pockets, smiling at him.

"Hey."

"Hey back." Will reaches out and grabs Sonny's tie. "Get your cute butt in here." Will tugs, pulling him inside. Walking backwards, this should've let them straight to the bedroom.

But Sonny puts his hands on his hips, pulling him close. "Nice music." He pulls Will into a slow dance. "When you're not the only object in my solar system, I'll tell you if I like your apartment."

"Did someone teach you the dos and don'ts on how to charm guys into falling for you?"

"It's a gift." Sonny leans in to kiss both corners of Will's mouth. "The streets of Chicago are buried in my sexual conquests. It was starting to block traffic, so I was politely asked to leave." Sonny brushes his cheek with Will's. "I can still smell you in my dreams. And when I wake up, all I want is you."

Will's heart starts to shudder, like sudden heat after a lifetime of cold. "I knew you were trouble the second you walked into Doug's." Will reaches underneath the hand on his backside. "If only I knew how much trouble."

"More than enough." Sonny crushes his mouth with Will's, making them both moan. "You okay?"

"Yes I am.

Whatever blood was still in his head goes straight to his nether regions. "Which way?"

Will directs them straight to his bedroom door, right through the open doorway. If he'd been in his right mind, Sonny would've stopped to appreciate the architecture of the place, the paint on the walls. But all of his senses are singularly focused on the man wrapped up in his arms. His weight against his own, the shape of his body and the scent of chamomile. The surprise on his face when they stop right by the bed instead of pushing Will onto it.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to take my time." Sonny reaches to trace Will's cheek, tracing it all the way down to his shirt.

"I don't mind at all."

Will was expecting a rush of adrenaline-- hands everywhere, mouth devouring him whole-- to match the impulsive lust Will can see in Sonny's eyes. When Sonny's hands grip Will's hips, as their lips never separate, Will remembers how harshly he'd steeled himself just yesterday.

It would appear his self control extends to affairs in the bedroom as well.

But Will's not even remotely prepared for romance. Something Sonny was only just made aware of when Will had caught sight of the peonies. Not just surprised, there was clear suspicion in his eyes. Just like there is now as Sonny slows down, lingering over the quiet kiss.

It's not enough just to get Will in bed. He wants to take that suspicion away, and turn it into vulnerable gratification.

Will's lips are still warm and inviting. It's no challenge to keep them together, to slide their tongues together, as their bodies keep moving in sync, like they're still dancing.

Sonny knows when Will's hands go limp on his back, he's right there with him.

Sonny reaches for Will's shirt, unbuttoning it slowly, then slowly trailing his hands up Will's body till he reaches the shoulders, and even more slowly pushes the shirt right off, and as it falls to the floor, tracing his fingers over Will's now bare chest. Will inhales sharply.

There's something about undressing a guy in a blazer. Seeing all that exposed skin as the layers come off one by one, the anticipation, the curiosity as you explore every inch. Sonny keeps moving his hands from his face to his shoulders as Will's hands go up to push Sonny's blazer and shirt off his shoulders, joining his on the floor as Will goes for Sonny's undershirt next.

Sonny keeps devouring Will's mouth, not pushing or grabbing, and when the undershirt is off, and Sonny pulls Will's hands to his chest with a small noise of approval, Will can feel the beating of Sonny's heart under his hands.

"You're pretty jacked for a CEO."

"Ex-CEO." It's torture, Sonny thinks, tortured with every inch to have those slender fingers tracing his body. Will pinches his arms, sucking his lips.

"You really are full of surprises. I like someone who's strong."

Will grabs Sonny's pants, smile hungry. Feral. "Let's see what else I can dig up on you."

They're dancing again, a dance as old as time itself, and somehow Will's the one leading. Sonny pictured pushing Will down on the bed, thrusting himself inside Will with all the force behind this crazy need. That's what Will would be okay with happening.

What Will's expecting to happen.

Instead, Sonny grabs Will's hands before they can pull off his pants, lifting them to his lips.

Watching Will over them, he sees the surprise-- and the suspicion that's still there.

"Looks like I'm coming up short." Sonny teases. "And since I've just been dying to know just what you've been hiding underneath that flannel, I'd like to know just how close my expectations are aligned with reality."

Sonny places his lips on Will's bare shoulder, as he uses his hands to nudge his pants off. Thank god for gravity when he watches them slide right off his legs.

He's wearing green boxers.

He's every gay man's dream. Pale skin, messy hair. The slim torso, with hipbones just barely sticking out underneath the boxers.

"Closer." The exhale's burning Sonny's lungs. "So close."

He strokes his finger up, all along the sensitive area between the boxers and Will's thighs.

"Whaddaya say to playing with fire?"

Sonny pulls Will against him, devouring his mouth. And when that's not enough, turns Will around to barely scrape the teeth on his shoulder, then the side of Will's neck.

Face buried in his neck, Sonny runs his hands up Will's body, filling them with Will's bare naked chest.

Will arches into him, hooking his arms around Sonny's neck, in offering. The instant that changes patience to urgency leaves Will weak in the knees, clearly aroused and and ready to be ravished. He feels Sonny's greed, feels his own rise to meet it.

Sonny's hand slides down, cupping between his legs, pushing as he brings Will to the brink of coming. Before he can fall, Sonny trails his fingers down Will's thighs, and with one last snap, pulls down one side of Will's boxers.

Will's breath catches, his body coiled, "My God."

"When you have me, you'll think of nothing else." Sonny pulls down the other side of the boxers. "But first, I really need to touch you, the way I've dreamt about touching you." Sonny brushes his lips over Will's shoulder. "Will."

Sonny turns Will to face him, lets his hands return to the back of his head, pulling him back. "Tonight, you're mine."

Denial, defiance, fights their way through arousal. "I belong to nobody but myself."

Sonny wraps Will in his arms, as they bend over the bed. "Tonight, we belong to each other.

Sonny closes his mouth over Will's, effectively shutting him up, clouding his mind. Will turns his head to take a breath, trying to steady himself. But then he feels Sonny's lips trail down to his nipple, over the flesh there, closing his mouth over it. The long pulls in Will's gut loosen his muscles, destroy his will to resist.

Will yields, telling himself he's doing it for his own selfish needs, not Sonny's.

Sonny feels Will surrender, the way he softens in his arms. Hears it in the low moan of arousal and acceptance.

So he takes what he's been desperate for since the first time he'd seen Will by the pond.

Will's body is a gift, the scent of his skin, his masculine curves. He treats himself to the taste of it in slow pulls and long drags. Then he frees Will's nipples to his hands, his mouth. The blood in his veins thunders like a meteor shower, but he sets himself on fire and puts them both through hell.

When he kicks Will's boxers off his thighs, Will arches his back. Opens himself up to him. Sonny traces his fingers over WIll's back, watching Will's face in the dim lighting as Will closes his eyes, lips quivering on a moan.

Pulling himself inside Will, Sonny sends him soaring.

Will's whole body is a mess of spasms, of elation, with the sharp edge of pressure slicing like a katana through a watermelon. It bursts inside Will, sending him flying through the air.

"I want you." Will feels Sonny shake, even as he trembles himself. Sees himself in Sonny's eyes as he looks him over. "I want you in me. Inside me."

Sonny clutches at that slippery slope of self control, and as he wraps his legs around Will, slides very, very slowly, inside him. Slides in deep when Will rises to meet his mouth. Holds himself there as Sonny's breath catches in his throat, and everything he is gets lost in Will.

A few sighs, and a few quick gasps later, their eyes are only on each other as they move, a casual pace that spreads their arousal like a warm Jacuzzi. Their lips meet again, and Sonny feels Will's curve against his before Sonny pulls back to reveal a smile.

Skin rubs against skin, smooth friction. Music, the sad cry from Will's living room, a congratulatory burst from down below, combining together in Sonny's head with Will's quickened breaths.

Will tenses underneath him, head leaning back to the bare line of his throat for Sonny's mouth. Will tightens around him, shaking. Once again Sonny buries his face in Will's neck, and this time, lets himself come with him.

Much later, Sonny lays next to will, watching the light dance across the ceiling, threading Will's fingers with his. Drenched in sweat. "Am I allowed to stay the night?" he asks. "Or am I taking the walk of shame?"

Will stares into the dark. "Stay.


	24. Strawberry Wine

Sonny wakes at first daylight. Will had curled in on himself in his sleep, but Sonny can still see he has his arm in between them and a fist clenched over his chest. Like he's protecting his heart, Sonny thinks. The small key lays in the palm of Will's hand.

Sonny wants nothing more than to lift that hand up, to uncurl those fingers one by one. Expose Will's heart to him, Sonny realizes. Will already has his own. Has had it, Sonny decides, since the first time he saw Will.

It's a shock to the system, especially for a gay man such as himself who had just started to believe he wasn't worthy of loving someone. Not unless you count family or friends. His thing with Paul, who everybody--including Paul himself, behind closed doors--had thought was perfect for him, convinced him he'd blown the best chance he'd ever have, at a long term relationship with a gay guy.

That had been hard to swallow for a man who, at the very core of who he is, wants a family, to get married, build a home. And it's because he was forced to swallow it, Sonny realizes, that he'd been so restless and unhappy that it never left him alone, like the paparazzi, for months.

Now here he is, looking at the man who could be the answer he's been looking for. The man who, Sonny's sure, won't give him a chance to ask the question.

So Sonny's just gonna have to convince Will. Come hell or high water, sooner rather than later.

Because he'd meant every word from last night. They belong to each other.

Sonny considers waking Will up, reminding him of how compatible they are in bed. He can't think of a better way to start the day, especially looking at Will all soft and warm, and hanging off of him.

But it wouldn't be fair to wake him up when they haven't really gotten the chance to sleep. Will's work day starts much later than his own.

Sonny slides out of bed, away from Will, with some regret, and stands up. Will stirs, humming in his sleep, before rolling into the warmth he'd left.

Sonny grabs his pants and goes straight for the bathroom to shower.

You can tell a lot about a person just by looking at their bathroom. Will's is both ridiculously clean and well decorated. Thick baby blue towels offset the white fixtures, seeing the diamond pattern scattered across the tiles.

A plant hangs on the windowsill, and there's bottles everywhere, colored blue and green that hold lotions as well as bath salts. Apparently Will likes fancy soaps, Sonny noted, keeping them on display.

He apparently has longer lasting hot water than Sonny does. Sonny smiles during the whole fifteen minutes he takes in the shower that covers the whole room in steam like a hot sauna.

Will's still asleep when Sonny finally steps out, but now he's all sprawled out on top of the sheets, the morning light cast over his naked back. Sonny forces himself to not immediately get back in bed with Will, instead thinking about making coffee.

Will's living room has tall ceilings and dark wood flooring. He'd taken a sponge to the walls with the paint, making it look like a burnt orange.

Hanging on the faded walls were several posters. Artwork posters, Sonny notes. Elegant line drawings, a poster of the Las Vegas sign, with life in place of the Las Vegas words.

A cream colored sofa sits in the middle of the room, adorned with only one pillow and a blanket.

Sonny decided he likes Will's taste. Modern, but still used tables and complementary colors. And he really likes seeing his peonies on the able as well.

Sonny walks into the kitchen, unable to stop himself from smiling. Will apparently appreciates good coffee just as much as he does.

Sonny does his best to make as little noise as possible so he doesn't wake Will up. And while the coffee brews, he stands at the entrance to the kitchen, looking out the window at his view of Horton Town Square.

He hears the sound of feet sliding onto the floor, then walking towards him.

He wears his low hung boxers, eyes still riddled with sleep, and a lazy smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I was quiet with the grinder."

"You were." Will takes a breath. "But I can smell when it's almost ready. You gonna make me breakfast too?"

"How about toast? House special."

"You sure? Cause I'm pretty sure I had a fair helping your house special last night." Still smiling, Will struts right over to Sonny. "How about another?" Will says, before grabbing Sonny by the neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

He'd felt lonely when he'd woken up, convinced himself he'd just up and left. He's not in the habit of letting men stay the night. It's too easy for them to sneak out while he's still asleep. Better to send them on their way, to sleep by himself than to wake up and find they're not there.

Then he'd seen Sonny's shirt, his blazer and shoes, and he'd been so happy. Too happy. When a guy has that much control, it's time to take it back. And the best way to do that is to distract him with another round in bed.

"Why didn't you roll over and wake me up?"

"I seriously considered it." Still considering it. "But I thought since you're working tonight, you should get some actual sleep that isn't a quick nap. But now that you're awake…"

Will laughs, backing away, "Now that I'm awake, I want coffee." Will opens a cupboard, shooting Sonny a knowing look over his shoulder. "And if you ask nicely, I just might make you breakfast."

"Do I have to get down on my knees and beg?"

"You have my attention, Sonny. I'll make you toast." Will tells him, but when he sees Sonny's face fall, he adds, "French toast. I still have some brioche bread left over." Will hands him a mug filled with freshly brewed coffee.

"Thanks. Since you can cook, we won't even need to hire a cook when we get married and have two kids."

"Just two?"

"Nice even number, one from each of us. I like the artwork you have hanging. Pretty unique."

Will takes out a skillet. "Cooking's another art, and can be unique if you know what you're doing."

Will gets out a bowl, and Sonny watches as he cracks an egg on the side, and drop the egg and white with one hand.

"Now I get it. Do it again."

Will chuckles as he cracks another egg. "How about you go put on some music? Won't be long now."

They eat at the table by the kitchen, close to the little window overlooking the square.

"Who taught you to cook?" Sonny asks Will.

"My grandma Marlena. Tried to teach me how to knit, but that didn't work out too well."

"Surprised you own a bar instead of a restaurant."

"I like cooking at my own pace, whenever it strikes my fancy. Not every second of the day, hot and perfect."

"That is true. So how'd you end up being the co owner of Doug's Place?"

"I like being my own boss. When someone else is your boss, you gotta follow this rule and that rule. So I went to Salem U for a business degree, and I thought, what kind of business do I want? Don't care about selling souvenirs, or gentleman's clothing. I thought, they've already got all of that in Salem, but what's the one thing that keeps people coming back? Imbibing. Some harmless drinking, and a good time to be had, that's where people go when they want to feel good. And so...Doug's Place."

"How long have you and Doug been co owners?"

"Let me see." Will's already eaten his one piece, so he goes for the four he'd plunked on Sonny's plate. "It's almost been 4 years."

"You've had that bar since you were 24?"

"How the hell do you know how old I am?"

"Chad."

Will looks up at the ceiling. "Goddamnit. I'm gonna tan his hide for that. He should know better than to ever reveal someone's actual age. What else did he blab to you about?"

Sonny turns his whole focus onto his breakfast, "This is really good. What did you put in it?"

Will doesn't say anything for exactly ten seconds. "Oh my god. He just couldn't stop himself from bragging about his one gay experience, could he?"

Unsettled, for both his own and Chad's sake, Sonny's quick to refute, "No, no, it wasn't like that. It was reminiscing. And really sweet. You were important to him. Still are."

"Lucky for him I already know that. And it goes both ways. Do you still remember the first guy you slept with, Sonny? And do you still remember him fondly?"

"Brian. A really good looking brunette. I was with him throughout the early years at Salem U."

Will likes how quickly Sony gave him a name. Even if the guy doesn't actually exist. "So what happened?"

"He dumped me because he could tell I wasn't as into him as he was into me. Still pisses me off just a little. But to put the focus back on you--and don't think I didn't notice how you redirected the conversation away from you, but I was the CEO of Titan Industries. As I was saying, how did you pull something like that off? 24's still ridiculously young to start a business, one that's clearly managed to get past the three year hump."

Will leans back. "What's it to you? Boss."

"Fine." Sonny shrugs as he keeps eating. "I'll just assume you stole money, have connections with the Mob, or charmed and murdered the previous owner-- after he signed the place over to you. And are still running illegal gambling and whores in the back room."

"Now you know why I'm really so busy. But your story's better. Compared to the truth, which is really boring. Worked every day at the Brady Pub after school and during the summer, saved my earnings. I'm ridiculously good at saving money when I absolutely have to. Then I started working as a bartender, serving drinks, while getting a business degree at Salem U part time. And then, right before I turned 23, my stepgrandfather, passed away. Shot in the head on a dangerous assignment as a PI."

Will's eyes water as he says it. "I guess I'm still angry at him."

"I'm so sorry." Sonny covers Will's hand with his. "You two were close, weren't you?"

"I loved him more than any guy I've ever been with. John Black, with his silver hair and strong hands. He treated my grandma Marlena like a princess, and always put her first. Always." Will blinks away tears. "He had this insane insurance policy, much bigger than it should've been, all things considered. Part for me, part for Marlena and the rest of the kids. But my grandma all but forced me to take hers too. Nothing I said made any difference, she wouldn't budge. So I made a few wise investments, and a year later, me and Doug opened the bar."

"There's nothing boring about any of that, Will. You know how to run a bar."

"Indeed I do." Will stands up, picking up their plates. "You should get dressed, if you want me to drive you home."

Sonny couldn't convince Will to come inside, so he settles for a dizzy kiss before Will finally pushes him out of the car and drives away.

Showing up at his own house at 8 in the morning, in wrinkled clothes gets him a smile and a whistle from one of the workers, as they move dead tree branches into a pile.

"Somebody got lucky last night, Mr. Kiriakis."

Got something, Sonny thinks, rubbing his chest, before heading inside to get to work.

Will refuses to see him later that night, or the next night after that. Sonny has to resort to talking on the phone, giddy as a little schoolgirl as he walks around the mansion with his phone, wracking his brain for any witty anecdote that could persuade Will to not hang up.

St. Patrick's Day celebrations and business are in full swing, Will tells him. And as long as they are, Will can't spare any time playing around.

Sonny is well experienced in knowing when someone's testing his patience and putting him off and messing with him. And decides to let Will ride it all the way out.

Until Sonny's brought him to shore.


	25. There is No Greater Love

One afternoon, Chad stops by wearing Men's Warehouse and a "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" button. He takes the button off and tosses it to Sonny. "When are you coming into the city?"

"Thought I'd wait until the weekend to join in on the crazy."

"Dude, it's St. Patrick's. It's literally the weekend right now."

"Not here it's not. See for yourself." He leads Chad into the smoking room, where Eli is up on a ladder patiently working on the plaster.

"Hey, Eli." Chad hooks his thumbs into his pockets, craning his neck. "That's quite some work."

"Sure is. How's Abi?"

"Driving me crazy planning the wedding. Just picked the cake yesterday. And you'd think our lives depended on it whether it had sugar roses or buttercream roses."

"The best thing you can do for something like that is just go along with whatever she likes best, and show up on the actual wedding day."

"You couldn't have told me that before I told her I preferred the buttercream roses, only to find out she'd made up her mind on the sugar roses?" Chad pulls out a bottle of Excedrin. "Got something I can take this with, Sonny? She's giving me such a headache."

Sonny picks up a half drank bottle of water, "So is this you hiding?"

"Just until she calms down." Swallowing the painkillers with the water, Chad walks over the drop cloth. "Did you do these walls yourself, Sonny, or did you hire someone yourself?"

"All me." Delighted, Sonny runs his fingers over the smooth surface of the walls. "Spent three whole days on this room alone." And nights, Sonny thinks, but doesn't say. "I think this color will really make the room look better than wallpaper. Looks so much better with the trim too."

"You're just the Property Brothers and Martha Stewart all at once, aren't you? So what came after that?"

"Library. Still have a few details to work out in here, as well as the kitchen, but library's up on the drawing board for next week. After that, I'm hoping I can start working on outside. Can I have a few of those?"

"Sure." Chad hands over the painkillers, along with the water. "Are your problems work related, or guy related?"

"Sort of both. Come out on the back porch, check out what the workers did with the garden."

"Heard you were Will's escort in a big black limo a few nights ago." Chad says as they move to the back. "Real classy."

"I am classy. It's what I do." Sonny hands the water back, opening the doors to the dining room.

"If you're planning on wooing him, it's a good start."

"I have way more planned than that." Sonny says as Chad drinks the water. "I'm gonna ask him to marry me."

Chad promptly chokes on his water, spitting it everywhere.

"Nice spit take." Sonny jokes. "You can keep the bottle."

"Jesus tapdancing Christ, Sonny. You and Will are getting married?"

"I was thinking of having the wedding here, sometime in the spring. In April, possibly." Sonny scans the back porch, the gardens. He briefly wonders what kind of bird is currently putting on an impromptu concert at the top of its lungs. "Definitely won't be finished by then, but that's part of its charm. Of course, if it takes me longer to get him to say yes, we could always wait till September."

"You don't wait around, do you?"

"Nope. Just a matter of keeping it up." Sonny smiles now as he looks at Chad's still flabbergasted face. "Oh, you meant Will. I haven't asked him. Not yet. If I try now, he's just gonna say no. Check it out, all the flower bulbs are starting to bloom. The workers told me we have peonies, tulips and roses. Underneath all the weeds and vines, probably been staying in bloom all this time. Ain't that the darndest thing?"

"Sonny, you seriously need something stronger than a painkiller."

"I'm not delusional. I'm in love with him. In fact, I think I've loved him long before I even met him. That's why I never let myself get serious about anyone. Not like this. Because he was always right here, and I just had to find him."

"Then I need something stronger."

"Whiskey's in the kitchen, ice in the cooler. New fridge comes tomorrow."

"I'm getting us both a drink."

"Make mine neat." Sonny says absentmindedly. "I've still got work to do today."

Chad comes back with two glasses in hand, taking a long sip of his own as he looks at Sonny's face. "Sonny, you know you're one of my best friends."

"I know I am."

"So I'm gonna talk to you like my brother-- the one I wish I'd had instead of the one I got."

"You think I've gone off the rails."

"Actually, no. In a few instances, hell, in most instances, a guy tends to think with his dick. By the time that leads to thinking with his head, he can usually see the situation for what it really is."

"Thank you, Dad."

Chad just shakes his head, pacing up and down the porch. "Will's a very attractive guy."

"I'm not gonna disagree."

"He just gives off some kind of pheromone or whatever it is, the thing they do to get another gay guy all riled up. All he has to do is breathe on you."

"You're saying I'm just infatuated with him, or just feeling good from lust."

"See? You get it." Chad puts a hand on Sonny's shoulder. "And nobody gay or straight blames you. And don't forget, Sonny, you're still on the rebound from a serious relationship, and knowing your tendency to carry guilt like it's precious cargo, I'm pretty sure you haven't exactly been taking care of your needs since Pablo dumped you."

"His name is Paul, you jackass." Amused and touched, Sonny leans back. "But it's not infatuation or lust. I honestly thought it was, with a side of lust. But it's not that at all. It's not about getting my needs met, and I'm not thinking with my dick. I'm thinking with my heart."

"Oh boy." Chad takes another gulp of his drink. "Sonny, you haven't been down here for two months."

"People keep saying that, like time has anything to do with it." And because the disapproving part of his mind had told him the same exact thing, he's more than irritated to hear it echoed by his best friend. "Where in the law does it say you can't fall for someone until enough time has gone by, all while you two talk, get to know each other, and maybe even have sex to make sure you're compatible? If a law like that exists, and actually works, explain the current divorce rates."

"If the current and former CEO of Titan Industries try to debate this now, we'll be here well into next week."

"Then I'll just say this right here and now. I have never felt anything like this, in my whole life. I didn't think I ever would. I thought something in me was just irreparably broken."

"Jesus, Sonny…"

"I couldn't truly love Paul." The guilt returns to Sonny's voice. "I thought I had, and I tried so hard to. I seriously came so close to settling for secret meetups behind closed doors, never being seen with him in public, and him never coming out, because I thought I was lucky enough to get even that, or give back. But I was wrong. I've never come close to feeling this before, Chad." Sonny says again. "And I love every second of it."

"If you want to be with Will, then I want him for you too. The problem with that, Sonny, regardless of how you feel, you can't know for sure he feels the same way."

"Maybe he's gonna break my heart, but I'll take feeling too much over feeling nothing at all any day of the week." That's what Sonny keeps telling himself, over and over, since he first realized he was in love with Will. "However it pans out, I have to at least try."

He swirls the drink he's yet to touch. "He has no idea what to make of me." Sonny murmurs. "And it's gonna be a thing of beauty to watch him try and figure me out."

Later that night, Sonny hears crying. A man's brokenhearted sobs. Sonny tosses in his sleep, weighed down by the grief, unable to push it away, unable to help or ask for it.

Even when the crying stops, the anguish doesn't leave.


	26. You're Not Fooling Me

Grayson House

March 1941

_He has no idea what the hell he's doing here, to stare at the water while the shadows spread around him, as night rears its head to take away the light._

_But he comes, again and again, to wander by the river like she's just going to show up, walking along the curve where the flowers are blooming._

_She'd smile, take his hand, and everything will be exactly like it's supposed to._

_Nothing will ever be like it's supposed to ever again._

_He's scared he's going crazy, the grief overpowering his mind like the night overpowering the day. How else would you explain how he hears her whispering to him all hours of the night? What else is he supposed to do besides shut her out, the pain of losing her?_

_He watches a duck rise from the water like a nymph, beautiful and pure, skimming the murky water and flying away. Away from him, always._

_She's gone. His Alice was taken away from him, like that duck. Everyone is saying it, family and friends alike. Even the help was whispering about it. How Alice Grayson had run off with some nobody and left her husband and bastard son behind._

_Though he keeps looking in Salem, in Chicago and Springfield, though he keeps haunting the river like he's the ghost, in the worst hours of the night, he believes it._

_She'd left both him and the baby._

_Now he's leaving, in every sense of the word but with his body. He walks through day after day like a man sleepwalking. And God help him, he can't be a father to that baby, the spitting image of Alice he secretly, shamefully doubted was his. Just looking at him brings him unspeakable despair._

_He can't bring himself to go in the nursery. He hates himself for that, but even walking up the stairs to the second floor feels like someone is squeezing the air right out of his lungs._

_They say the baby's not even his._

_No. In the dim twilight, with the night waking up around him, Tom covers his face with his hands. No he can't, will never believe that of her. They made that child, out of love, trust, and desire._

_If even that wasn't true…_

_He lowers his hands, stepping closer to the water. It's warm, like Alice's smile. Soft, like her skin. Even now, as the color deepens, it's almost the color of her eyes._

_"Thomas!"_

_He freezes, on the slippery edge._

_Alice. She's coming right towards him, pushing through the water, hair spilling past her shoulders in wisps. His heart, hardened by grief, wakes up with one wild lurch._

_Then the last wink of light lights up her face, and his heart gives out all over again._

_Henderson grabs his hands, fear freezing his fingers. She knew the intent in his eyes, and that was the intent to die._

_"She'd never want this for you. She'd hate herself to know you damned yourself to an eternity in hell by killing yourself."_

_"She left me."_

_"No, she didn't! That's not true. They lied to you. All of them, Tom. She loved you. She loved you and Bill more than anything."_

_"Then where the hell is she?" The anger that hides underneath his grief makes itself known. He grabs Henderson's arms, pulling her to her feet. Some sick, twisted part of him wants to swing his fist at her. Cover it in bruises just for being connected to Alice, and his own neverending grief. "Where is she?"_

_"She's dead!" She shouts, voice echoing in the warm air. "She was murdered. The only way she could ever pull herself away from you and Bill is in death."_

_Tom shoves her away, staggering to lean against the trunk of a tree. "That's more nonsense."_

_"I'm telling you it's true! I felt it in my bones. I dreamt about it."_

_"I did too." Tears hurt his eyes, flooding the light. "I dreamt about it too."_

_"Tom, you have to listen to me. I was there! She was in the nursery to feed the baby. I've known Alice all her life. She did nothing but love you and Bill. I never should have left the mansion that night." Henderson crosses her hands over her chest, like she's trying to hold her broken heart together. "I'll spend the rest of my life begging for her forgiveness because I wasn't there."_

_"She took her clothes and her jewelry. My mother is right." He purses his lips in what he thinks is an act of strength, but is actually his broken faith. "I have to accept it."_

_"Your mother hated Alice. She fired me the very next day. She was scared to have me still in there, worried I would find out--was…."_

_Tom whips around, face contorted in anger to where Henderson steps away. "You expect me to believe my own mother somehow murdered my wife, covered up the act, the crime, and the mess, by making it look like she left me?"_

_"I don't know what happened. But I know Alice didn't leave you. Mrs. Grayson, she went to Celeste."_

_Tom waves it off, turning away again. "Psychic bullshit."_

_"Celeste has a gift. Said there was blood, fear and pain. She talked about death, and a watery grave. She said there's two halves of you, and one of them is blacker than the deepest depths of hell."_

_"So now I killed her? I came home in the middle of the night and murdered my wife?"_

_"I said two halves, Tom, that shared the same parents. Look at your stepbrother."_

_The cold stabs him, making him sick to his stomach, a pulse pounding in his head. "I'm done talking to you. Go home, Henderson. And stay the hell away from the DiMera mansion."_

_He digs into his pocket, taking out the bronze hourglass necklace and pressing it into her hand._

_"Take this, keep it for the baby." He can't bring himself to say his name. "He should have something that belongs to his mother."_

_He stares down, heartbroken, at the symbol in her hand. The days of Alice's life have stopped. "She died all over again because you don't believe in her."_

_"Stay the hell away from me." Tom stumbles away, towards the DiMera mansion, towards his self-appointed hell. "Stay the hell away."_

_"You know it!" Henderson shouts after him. "You know she was good."_

_Clutching the hourglass to her chest, Henderson silently promises to pass it down, along with the truth, to Alice's son._


	27. Do You Wanna Know a Secret

DiMera Mansion

March 2019

From the veranda, Sonny watches the day spring to life. The dawn blushes like a bride over the sky, with purple hints, like dark circles under the eyes. The air is warm. Sonny's felt it almost every day. It's already March, and winter has bowed out gracefully.

The gardens that had been a complete abomination a month ago, are now showing bits and pieces of themselves in their former glory. Choking vines, suffocating weeds, deadwood and broken branches had been taken away, revealing bit by bit the leading paths, the shrubs, even bulbs and plants too stubborn to just up and die.

A wooden arbor has a flower called wisteria wrapped all over it, with an island of larkspurs showing the start of new buds.

He has lilies, magnolia, chrysanthemum, and wild chamomile. He's written down everything he could remember his workers rattling off in their bored voices. When he'd described the vine in his imagination, the one decorating the belvedere, they'd told him he was after morning glory.

He liked the name immediately. What are mornings after all, if not glorious?

He thinks his body might be adjusting to the 5-6 hour sleep schedule he's able to stick to. Or maybe it's just the nerves.

Something's pushing him, guiding him step after step through the transformation of his mansion. And yet, it's not just his mansion.

If it was Alice hovering over him, she's nothing if not elusive. There's times he's completely content, relaxed. But there's other times when he feels a chill at the back of his neck. Times when he just knows in his gut that someone is watching him.

Stalking him.

Well, what do you expect from a ghost, anyway, Sonny thinks, sipping his first coffee of the morning. Nothing one second, weeping the next.

Even as that thought passes through his head, he sees Will step out of the trees.

Sonny doesn't hesitate, just sets his coffee down and starts for the stairs.

Will had noticed Sonny long before Sonny had noticed him. From the cover of the trees and morning mist, he'd stood to study the house. Study Sonny.

What the hell is it about this stupid mansion and the guy that bought it that keeps pulling him in? Will wonders.

There's quite a number of other mansions here, all over Salem, in Chicago. And God knows there's no shortage of good-looking single gay men, if another gay guy was looking.

But it's this mansion that keeps his interest, spurs his imagination. And now it looks like this guy, the same one that's currently rushing down the stairs in a ratty shirt and jeans, face rough with some stubble, is doing the exact same thing.

Will really doesn't like wanting. It gets in the way. And when wanting involves a guy, well, it's almost a guarantee it'll screw everything up.

He'd built his whole life from the ground up, and he likes it that way. A guy, regardless of how friendly he is, would only serve to put a flaw in the design, at best. At worst, he'd just up and burn the whole thing to the ground.

He'd distanced himself from Sonny since the night they'd slept together. Just to prove it was possible.

But Will's smiling for him now, a very slow, ready to pounce smile, as Sonny closes the distance.

This guy has too much appeal to be healthy for anyone.

Especially himself.

Sonny strides up and, cupping his hands under Will's elbows, and there's only an instant where Will blinks in surprise right before Sonny covers Will's mouth with his, taking him down.

"Morning." Sonny says as he releases Will. "How are you?"

"Phew." Will has to give him credit for both the verbal greeting and the kiss, straightening out his hair. "How are you?" he replies, before reaching up and rubbing a hand on his slightly rough cheek. "You're gonna need a shave pretty soon."

"If I'd known you were stopping by, I would've fixed that first thing."

"I wasn't stopping by." Will picks up the baseball he hadn't realized he'd even dropped, casually tossing it in the pond. "Just doing some errands for my grandma."

"Is she okay? You mentioned staying with her when she's not 100%."

"She just gets depressed now and again, that's all." And dammit, godfuckingdamnit, that immediate concern gets under Will's skin. "Missing John. She was in her thirties when they got married the first time, and 67 when he died. Three whole decades to build a whole life together."

"Think she'd like it if I stopped by later?"

"She likes you." Because he didn't want to just stand there, Will retrieves the ball and tosses it in again.

"Refresh my memory. Does she have any family?"

"One sister, still living."

"Kids?"

Will's face falls. "Just me now. Did you ever go into the city to party?"

Touchy subject, Sonny decided. He lets it go for now. "No, not yet. Thought about going in tonight. Are you working?"

"All the way till midnight on St Patty's. People like drinking on a holiday that serves green beer."

"Late hours, huh. You look exhausted."

"I don't really like being up this early, but my grandma Marlena is an early riser. Once she's awake, so is everyone else." WIll lifts his arms up to stretch. "So are you, apparently. You an early bird too?"

"Nowadays I am. Come inside with me, have some coffee, take a look at what I've been doing since we can't be together."

"I was busy."

"You said that."

Will knits his eyebrows, annoyed. "I don't say anything I don't mean."

"I never said you did. But I'm obviously putting you on edge. I'm okay with that, Will." Sonny reaches out a hand to touch Will's face, amused when he sees Will's temper flare up. "But I'm not okay with you thinking one night is all I was after."

"If you have a night with me, it's because I want it, and exactly where I want it."

"And I'm not okay with that." Sonny goes on mildly, though the hand gripping Will's arm before Will can pull away is strong. "I'm very much not okay with you thinking all I care about is banging and leaving."

"Nobody touches me unless I say they can." Will shoves at Sonny's hand.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?" His fingers have an iron grip, to match his hard tone. "You need to calm down. Starting a fight isn't gonna scare me away. You wanted to take it slow this week, and that's fine. I'm a patient guy, Will, but I am not a booty call. Don't you dare go thinking you can just wash your hands of me like I never existed."

Getting angry, Will realizes, isn't how he needs to handle Sonny. There's not a doubt in his mind he could chip away at his self control and get him all riled up into shouting at him or full on fighting. That would definitely be interesting, entertaining even. But there's also the 50% chance he has of losing the fight.

Will knows better than to play with those kind of odds, so instead, Will strokes a hand on Sonny's cheek. "Aw come on, Sonny." His voice is dripping with honey. "What're you getting so upset about? You just irritated me, is all. I'm not my usual chipper self this early in the morning, and here you are all rough and rugged. I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings."

Will closes the distance and kisses Sonny's cheek.

"Then what exactly were you trying to do, William?"

Something about how Sonny uses his full name makes him back up. It was a warning. "Listen, Sonny, I like you just fine. I really do. And the other night, you really blew my mind. Our first time was perfect, wasn't it? But please don't kid yourself into thinking it was more than it actually was."

"So what was it, then?"

Will shrugs. "A very good night for us both. Can we please just be friends and leave it at that?"

"We could do that. Here's my counter offer."

Sonny pulls Will to him, devouring his mouth. Not even bothering with patience this time around, no reason to, no perfect touching of the lips.

Sonny's literally marking him, and they both know it.

Will lets out a small growl as he struggles to pull away. Even when it turns into a full on snarl, Sonny ignores it. Sonny fists a hand at the back of Will's head, pulling it back, taking them deeper. Anger, hurt and desperation rage inside him as he applies them to the kiss.

Will can't find it in him to resist, not when all those emotions hit his system, freeing whatever needs he was hoping to keep in check. With a silently uttered promise, Will wraps his arms around Sonny's neck to meet the severity in that kiss.

With a whine, Will settles down to ride the rest of the kiss out.

"We're not even close to being done with each other." Sonny runs his hands down Will's arms.

"Possibly."

"I'll come in to Doug's tonight, take you out after closing time. After things have quieted down, I'd love it if you came out here. We can have dinner."

Will manages a smile. "You cooking?"

Sonny smiles back, kisses his forehead. "I'm gonna surprise you."

"Don't you always?" Will retorts, as Sonny walks back inside.


	28. I Don't Want to Be a Bride

Will is pissed, more at himself than anything else. Not just for losing the fight, but for taking the coward's way out. His acting like a coward is what led to him trying to pick a fight in the first place.

Will trudges back down the driveway, through the green grass in hopes of disturbing some unsuspecting wildlife.

He stops at the corner of what used to be, as far as his memory serves, the Grayson property. The creepy place with slowly moving shallow water, its dead trees and heavy scents, and belongs just as much to him as it does to the sketchy neighborhoods and lively pace of the Square.

He'd been a part of it as a kid, knew the difference between a raven and a crow, how to avoid disturbing a snake's nest just by its smell, how to properly cast and reel a fishing line to catch a fish.

It's his family bloodline, just like the Horton Town Square had become home to his bar. He doesn't only come here when his grandma Marlena is depressed, but also when he himself is.

He catches something peeking out of the water nearby. It always is, Will thinks, what lies underneath the surface that could pull you under, in one quick pull, if you weren't cautious and didn't know how to handle yourself.

There's so much underneath the surface of the one called Sonny Kiriakis. He wishes he was just another spoiled, rich, gold digging trust fund asswipe getting his rocks off. That way Will could've really enjoyed his time with him, so he could drop him once he got bored.

But that becomes so much more difficult to drop when you also respect it. Will admires his strength, his sense of purpose, and his sense of humor. Just being friends, Sonny can already give him so much enjoyment.

But as his lover, Sonny worries the hell out of Will.

He wants too much. Will can already feel him pulling him in, and it scares the crap out of him, because it almost feels like he can't even stop it.

Messing with the key hanging off of his neck, Will starts towards the house. Nature will take its course, Will assures himself. It always does.

With that, Will plasters on a smile as he walks to his grandma's apartment, seeing her sitting on the sofa, pushing some papers around.

"Smells like something's baking." Will tells Marlena.

"Coffee cake. Already got one made so you can take it home with you."

Marlena straightens up, looking at Will, "And another one to take to the DiMera mansion for that nice young man. He doesn't take care of himself."

"He does alright."

"He does enough to be able to keep up with you." Marlena goes back to her papers, "Did he manage this morning? It definitely looks like it."

Will walks over to sit down next to her, "What looks like what?"

"You look like someone who's been intimate with someone, but didn't get the chance to have it reciprocated."

It's only because it's Marlena's job to talk about stuff like this as a therapist that Will doesn't find this awkward, just thinks on it, before answering,

"I could've done that myself. That's not the problem."

With a laugh, Marlena says, "Why scratch your own back when someone else can scratch it? I may be in my seventies, but even I can still see when a man's offering themselves up on a silver platter."

"My life isn't completely revolved around sex, grandma."

"Of course not, but I'm sure it would make it much more bearable." She straightens herself again. "You're not Leo, sweetheart."

The term of endearment makes Will smile, "Don't I know it."

"Not being your ex doesn't mean you have to be a monk the rest of your life if you can find someone who makes you feel alive."

Will decides to be honest, "I don't think he's looking to just feel alive. I think he wants to feel it for the rest of his life." Will leans back against the couch, shaking his head, "I've lived this long half alive, and I'm going to keep it that way."

"It's always black and white with you. Couldn't get you to acknowledge the gray without shoving you headfirst into it. You're my grandson, even if you are a young man, so this is all I'm going to say; There's nothing wrong with a man wanting to be alone, as long as he has a good reason for it. Being scared to feel alive again because it'll hurt is most definitely not."

"What happens if I let myself fall in love with him?" Will demands. "Then he has enough of all the small town charm and hauls ass back to Chicago? Or he's done with all the clubbing with me and finds someone else?"

Marlena leans back here, her face one of mild annoyance. "What happens if a tornado hits us and blows all of our properties to kingdom come? Goodness, Will, you can't let yourself think like that. It'll eat you alive."

"I was just fine with how I was before I met him, and I'm going to be again when he's gone." Sulking, he goes on, "That mansion over there, grandma, the one he's so adamant on restoring to its former glory? It's the perfect example of what happens when two people really shouldn't be together. I'm her family, and I know."

"No you don't." Marlena tips Will's chin. "If they weren't in love, if Alice Grayson and Tom Horton hadn't fallen in love and had a baby, you and I both wouldn't exist."

"If they were truly meant to be together, she wouldn't have died like she had. She wouldn't be haunting that mansion."

"Oh, sweetheart." Marlena's voice is now exasperation tinged with affection. "It's not Alice who's haunting the mansion."

"Then who is it?"

"I suspect that's why that young man is really here in the first place. Could be you're meant to help him."

Then, Marlena sniffs. "The coffee cake is ready." She says in a second before the buzzer sounds. "Want to take one over to the DiMera mansion?"

Will clenches his jaw. "No."

"Alright." Marlena stands up, walking towards the kitchen. "I just might bring it over myself." Her eyes dance when she glances over her shoulder. "I just might steal him for myself right out from under you."


	29. Thanks for the Memories

Sonny has every door and window on the first floor open. Music blasts from his little boombox, and Sonny works to the beat as she spreads the first coat of varnish on the just sanded floor in the smoking room.

Everything is sore. Every muscle and bone and fibre of his body sings their own song alongside the one coming from the boombox. He'd thought the physical strain that came with sanding the floor would've at released some of the pent up anger. Now he's hoping the focus and strain required when varnishing will do the trick.

The beautiful sunrise wasn't a prelude to a glorious morning at all.

The man knows how to get under his skin, he thinks, and worse, he knows it. One night he's all over him in bed, and the next Sonny's lucky to get a 2 minute phone call.

Blows up at him in one instant, and the next flirtatious teasing. Already trying to spin their perfect night into a well dressed up bang and leave.

Screw that.

"Aw come on, Sonny, what're you getting so upset about?" Sonny mutters under his breath. "You haven't even come close to seeing me upset, pal. But you will, long before I'm finished here."

"You look like you're seconds away from spiraling."

Sonny spins around, messing up the varnish. Then nearly collapses to his knees in relief when he sees Marlena smiling at him in the doorway.

"Didn't hear you come in."

"That doesn't surprise me." Showing her age privilege, she leans down and turns the volume down on his boombox as the track changes, to one lamenting about a lost love. "I like this music myself, but not at ear splitting volume. Brought you by a loaf of coffee cake I made myself this morning. Don't let me keep you from what you're doing. I'll just put it in the kitchen for you."

"I'll just be a minute."

"Don't stop on my account."

"No, I'm serious. Just five minutes. There's...something, but I don't remember what, you can drink in the fridge. Help yourself."

"I think I will. It's close out already, and it's March. Take your time."

When Sonny's finished enough to join her, Marlena's standing in front of his cabinet display in the kitchen, looking at the contents.

"I had a waffle iron just like that one growing up. I still have a cherry pitter like that one too. What are those dishes called again? I don't remember."

"Melamine."

"That's it. Did you pay money for those Mason jars?"

"Sadly, yes."

Marlena clicks her tongue in wonder. "Guess you can't judge on taste alone. But they are beautiful. You should look at mine sometime, see if anything calls out to you." Now she turns, nodding at the room. "This is spectacular, Sonny. You did a wonderful job."

"It'll look a lot better once I get the counters in and finish the panels for the appliances."

"It's fine." Marlena says again. "And the smoking room you're working on, it's as splendid as it can possibly be."

"Already have some furniture coming for it. Got a little carried away. Do you wanna take a seat, Marlena?"

"Just for a minute. I brought something from the house I think you should have, maybe put it on the mantel in the smoking room or another room."

She takes a seat at the table Sonny had put in here, pulling an old picture frame from a ag. "It's an old photograph, portrait style, of Alice Grayson."

Sonny takes it, looking at the the face of the woman that continuously haunts his dreams.

She might've been Will, Sonny thinks, but her face is too soft, too much that hasn't formed in her face. Her cheeks are more round, her eyes too naive, and shy.

God, she was so young, Sonny muses. So innocent despite the frock she's wearing, the dark dress with its small collar.

She was a girl, Sonny notes, while Will is a man.

"She was beautiful." Sonny says. "Beautiful and young. It's heartbreaking."

"It's thought she was around 18 when this was taken. There's no way it could've been more, because she lived to see her 19th birthday."

As Marlena speaks, a door slams upstairs, almost in anger. Marlena just looks up at the ceiling. "Sounds like your ghost is spiraling too."

"That only started happening today. The plumber's kid took off like a bat out of hell a few hours ago."

"You don't look like you're about to do the same."

"I'm not." Sonny sits across from her as another door slams, looking down at Alice Grayson Horton's shy, hopeful smile. "I'm not going anywhere."


	30. The Boys of the Old Brigade

There's a madness to St. Patrick's Day. The Irish music, the green leprechaun hats, and all the mayhem colliding together in a distraught celebration manages to create a mood that's both happily innocent and primally sexual. He highly doubts all the tourists that come just for the celebration actually know or even care about what the holiday really means. The rush to imbibe before they're forced to go back to work all bright eyed and bushy tailed.

Wanting his own taste of it, Sonny chooses to weave through the crowds, even grabs some green beads when they're tossed from one of the balconies. His ears ring with the blare of bagpipes, the outrageous laughter.

He decided the sight of guys' naked torsos, which a couple of people flash as they take off their shirts, would be a lot less uncomfortable after a few drinks.

So would being grabbed by a complete stranger and having him shove his tongue down his throat. The tongue tastes sweet, the combination of a tropical storm and pure unadulterated lust as it brushes over his.

"Thank you." Sonny finally gets out when he manages to pull away.

"Come back with me." The face painted guy shouts. "Let the good times roll!"

Sonny doesn't particularly feel like letting any good times roll with a complete stranger's tongue in his mouth, and escapes into the erupting crowd.

Maybe he's too old for this, he thinks--or maybe it's just the Chicago soil-- but right now he wants to be somewhere he can sit back and enjoy the view instead of being forced to be a part of it.

The doors to Doug's Place fly open, so the noise from inside pours out, entangled with the noise from the Square. He has to weave his way through the people on the sidewalk, those squished inside, and make his way through to get a spot standing by the bar.

The place is covered with the scent of beer, music and the sound of feet on the floor as people dancing cluster together on the dance floor. Onstage, a bagpipe player belts out such loud notes, Sonny wouldn't be surprised if the thing exploded from too much air.

Will's pouring a draft with one hand, while pouring a shot of Irish whiskey with the other. Two other bartenders are equally busy, and from what he can see, Will has four other waitresses working tables.

Sonny can see his vampire cats looking out from their spot on the shelf behind the bar, and he couldn't be more pleased.

"Beer and a bump." Will says as he slides the glasses into waiting hands. When he sees Sonny, Will holds up one finger, as he serves three more customers as he makes his way over to him.

"What can I get you, hot stuff?"

"You. You're obviously backed up." Sonny adds. "In here and out in the Square."

Will pushes his hair back, the silver key dangling against his sweaty skin as they clash with his green beads. "I can get you a drink, but don't go thinking I have a second to talk, cause I don't."

"Can I help you out?"

Will pushes his hair back again. "With what?"

"Whatever you want."

Someone squeezes their way in, calling out a request for a stout and another draft.

Will reaches behind him for the bottle, shifting to pour the draft. "You know anything about bussing tables, fancy boy?"

"I'm a fast learner."

"See that waiter over there?" Will gestures in the general direction of the chaos. "Tell him you're hired. He'll show you the ropes."

By midnight, he reckons he's carried about half a dozen empty glasses into the kitchen and dumped the equivalent of a landfill of cigars.

He'd had his ass grabbed, stroked and ogled at. What is it with gay guys grabbing other gay guys' asses? Someone should figure that out.

He's completely lost track of how many times he's been propositioned, and really didn't care to think of the big burly guy that had pulled him into his lap.

It was like being wrapped in a three hundred pound grizzly bear soaked in beer.

By two, he's completely amazed by the human tolerance levels for debauchery, and whatever preconceived notions he had about skills and tolerance levels required to work in the food industry, have been promptly abandoned.

The place is still swinging at 3, which makes Sonny decide Will isn't avoiding him after all. Or if he is, he backed it up with a very good reason.

"When's closing time?" Sonny asks as he takes another load towards the kitchen.

"When everyone leaves." Will pours a bottled beer into several plastic cups, handing them out.

"Do they?"

Will smiles, but it's quick and more distracted than anything else as he scans the crowd. "Not so much in an Irish Pub on St. Patrick's Day. Why don't you just go home? We're gonna be stuck here for another hour at least."

"I'm not a quitter."

He carries the empty glasses into the kitchen, right as a trio of incredibly drunk guys--more like neanderthals, Sonny notes--hitting on Will, hard.

And he's handling them just fine, but they weren't letting up.

"If you guys want to last, you should pace yourselves." Will puts a few plastic cups under the taps. "Are you guys driving?"

"Of course not."One of them, wearing a Northwestern T shirt under a mountain of beads, leans in. All the way in. "We got a room up in the city. Why come back with me, handsome? Have us a real good time in the hotel room Jacuzzi."

"That's a really generous offer, but unfortunately I'm currently very busy."

"I'll keep you busy." the guy says, as he grabs his own crotch, has his two friends whistling and whooping.

Sonny moves forward, running a watchful hand over Will's shoulder. "You're currently hitting on my boyfriend." He feels Will stiffen under his hand, watches as the challenge rie up in the Northwestern guy's eyes.

In any other circumstances, Sonny thinks as he sizes the kid up--five eleven, well tones 180--he might be the one to play nice with everyone, save kittens from trees. He might feed the homeless. But right now this guy is just drunk, horny, and a flat out idiot.

As if he's proving Sonny's point, Northwestern hisses, "Go to hell. Or how about we take this outside, so I can kick your ass?"

Sonny's voice is completely good natured. "Now what would be the point of going outside to fight you over him, when all you're doing is admiring my good taste? Amazing, isn't he? If you weren't trying to hit on him, I'd figure your eyes are too drunk to really see anything."

"My eyes are perfect, dumbshit."

"Precisely. Why don't I buy you and your friends a drink? Babe, can you put those on my tab?"

Sonny leans forward in conversation on the bar, nodding at the T shirt. "Holiday break? What's your major?"

Baffled and drunk, Northwestern blinks. "Whaddaya care?"

"Curiosity." Sonny slides a bowl of pretzels closer, taking one.

It's not till well after four when Will lets them into his apartment above the Pub. "Pretty good with the sweet talking with those college drunks. In fact, I'll be nice and not give you hell for the 'my boyfriend' comment."

"You are my boyfriend, you just don't know it yet. And besides, small talk like that is easy."

"Most men would've rolled up their sleeves." Will tosses his keys aside. Gone outside and settled it like men to prove who's ego was bigger." Tired, Will reaches to take off the beads as he studies Sonny. "Must be the CEO in you, with your ability to talk yourself out of a fight."

"The kid wasn't even 23."

"22 last February. I carded all three of them."

"I don't beat up kids. Not to mention, I really don't like getting punched in the face. Hurts like hell." Sonny tips Will's chin up. He looks completely worn out. "Really long shift, huh?"

"Gonna be that way till the excitement dies down. I appreciate you helping me. You held your own."

More than that, Will thinks. The guy had literally fallen right in line with the flow of his pub and made it work. Charmed the customers, put up with the groping, and even avoided a conflict that could've easily escalated by using his words instead of his fists.

The more he gets to know him, Will reflects, the more he wants to know.

There's a madness to St. Patrick's Day. The Irish music, the green leprechaun hats, and all the mayhem colliding together in a distraught celebration manages to create a mood that's both happily innocent and primally sexual. He highly doubts all the tourists that come just for the celebration actually know or even care about what the holiday really means. The rush to imbibe before they're forced to go back to work all bright eyed and bushy tailed.

Wanting his own taste of it, Sonny chooses to weave through the crowds, even grabs some green beads when they're tossed from one of the balconies. His ears ring with the blare of bagpipes, the outrageous laughter.

He decided the sight of guys' naked torsos, which a couple of people flash as they take off their shirts, would be a lot less uncomfortable after a few drinks.

So would being grabbed by a complete stranger and having him shove his tongue down his throat. The tongue tastes sweet, the combination of a tropical storm and pure unadulterated lust as it brushes over his.

"Thank you." Sonny finally gets out when he manages to pull away.

"Come back with me." The face painted guy shouts. "Let the good times roll!"

Sonny doesn't particularly feel like letting any good times roll with a complete stranger's tongue in his mouth, and escapes into the erupting crowd.

Maybe he's too old for this, he thinks--or maybe it's just the Chicago soil-- but right now he wants to be somewhere he can sit back and enjoy the view instead of being forced to be a part of it.

The doors to Doug's Place fly open, so the noise from inside pours out, entangled with the noise from the Square. He has to weave his way through the people on the sidewalk, those squished inside, and make his way through to get a spot standing by the bar.

The place is covered with the scent of beer, music and the sound of feet on the floor as people dancing cluster together on the dance floor. Onstage, a bagpipe player belts out such loud notes, Sonny wouldn't be surprised if the thing exploded from too much air.

Will's pouring a draft with one hand, while pouring a shot of Irish whiskey with the other. Two other bartenders are equally busy, and from what he can see, Will has four other waitresses working tables.

Sonny can see his vampire cats looking out from their spot on the shelf behind the bar, and he couldn't be more pleased.

"Beer and a bump." Will says as he slides the glasses into waiting hands. When he sees Sonny, Will holds up one finger, as he serves three more customers as he makes his way over to him.

"What can I get you, hot stuff?"

"You. You're obviously backed up." Sonny adds. "In here and out in the Square."

Will pushes his hair back, the silver key dangling against his sweaty skin as they clash with his green beads. "I can get you a drink, but don't go thinking I have a second to talk, cause I don't."

"Can I help you out?"

Will pushes his hair back again. "With what?"

"Whatever you want."

Someone squeezes their way in, calling out a request for a stout and another draft.

Will reaches behind him for the bottle, shifting to pour the draft. "You know anything about bussing tables, fancy boy?"

"I'm a fast learner."

"See that waiter over there?" Will gestures in the general direction of the chaos. "Tell him you're hired. He'll show you the ropes."

By midnight, he reckons he's carried about half a dozen empty glasses into the kitchen and dumped the equivalent of a landfill of cigars.

He'd had his ass grabbed, stroked and ogled at. What is it with gay guys grabbing other gay guys' asses? Someone should figure that out.

He's completely lost track of how many times he's been propositioned, and really didn't care to think of the big burly guy that had pulled him into his lap.

It was like being wrapped in a three hundred pound grizzly bear soaked in beer.

By two, he's completely amazed by the human tolerance levels for debauchery, and whatever preconceived notions he had about skills and tolerance levels required to work in the food industry, have been promptly abandoned.

The place is still swinging at 3, which makes Sonny decide Will isn't avoiding him after all. Or if he is, he backed it up with a very good reason.

"When's closing time?" Sonny asks as he takes another load towards the kitchen.

"When everyone leaves." Will pours a bottled beer into several plastic cups, handing them out.

"Do they?"

Will smiles, but it's quick and more distracted than anything else as he scans the crowd. "Not so much in an Irish Pub on St. Patrick's Day. Why don't you just go home? We're gonna be stuck here for another hour at least."

"I'm not a quitter."

He carries the empty glasses into the kitchen, right as a trio of incredibly drunk guys--more like neanderthals, Sonny notes--hitting on Will, hard.

And he's handling them just fine, but they weren't letting up.

"If you guys want to last, you should pace yourselves." Will puts a few plastic cups under the taps. "Are you guys driving?"

"Of course not."One of them, wearing a Northwestern T shirt under a mountain of beads, leans in. All the way in. "We got a room up in the city. Why come back with me, handsome? Have us a real good time in the hotel room Jacuzzi."

"That's a really generous offer, but unfortunately I'm currently very busy."

"I'll keep you busy." the guy says, as he grabs his own crotch, has his two friends whistling and whooping.

Sonny moves forward, running a watchful hand over Will's shoulder. "You're currently hitting on my boyfriend." He feels Will stiffen under his hand, watches as the challenge rie up in the Northwestern guy's eyes.

In any other circumstances, Sonny thinks as he sizes the kid up--five eleven, well tones 180--he might be the one to play nice with everyone, save kittens from trees. He might feed the homeless. But right now this guy is just drunk, horny, and a flat out idiot.

As if he's proving Sonny's point, Northwestern hisses, "Go to hell. Or how about we take this outside, so I can kick your ass?"

Sonny's voice is completely good natured. "Now what would be the point of going outside to fight you over him, when all you're doing is admiring my good taste? Amazing, isn't he? If you weren't trying to hit on him, I'd figure your eyes are too drunk to really see anything."

"My eyes are perfect, dumbshit."

"Precisely. Why don't I buy you and your friends a drink? Babe, can you put those on my tab?"

Sonny leans forward in conversation on the bar, nodding at the T shirt. "Holiday break? What's your major?"

Baffled and drunk, Northwestern blinks. "Whaddaya care?"

"Curiosity." Sonny slides a bowl of pretzels closer, taking one.

It's not till well after four when Will lets them into his apartment above the Pub. "Pretty good with the sweet talking with those college drunks. In fact, I'll be nice and not give you hell for the 'my boyfriend' comment."

"You are my boyfriend, you just don't know it yet. And besides, small talk like that is easy."

"Most men would've rolled up their sleeves." Will tosses his keys aside. Gone outside and settled it like men to prove who's ego was bigger." Tired, Will reaches to take off the beads as he studies Sonny. "Must be the CEO in you, with your ability to talk yourself out of a fight."

"The kid wasn't even 23."

"22 last February. I carded all three of them."

"I don't beat up kids. Not to mention, I really don't like getting punched in the face. Hurts like hell." Sonny tips Will's chin up. He looks completely worn out. "Really long shift, huh?"

"Gonna be that way till the excitement dies down. I appreciate you helping me. You held your own."

More than that, Will thinks. The guy had literally fallen right in line with the flow of his pub and made it work. Charmed the customers, put up with the groping, and even avoided a conflict that could've easily escalated by using his words instead of his fists.

The more he gets to know him, Will reflects, the more he wants to know.

There's a madness to St. Patrick's Day. The Irish music, the green leprechaun hats, and all the mayhem colliding together in a distraught celebration manages to create a mood that's both happily innocent and primally sexual. He highly doubts all the tourists that come just for the celebration actually know or even care about what the holiday really means. The rush to imbibe before they're forced to go back to work all bright eyed and bushy tailed.

Wanting his own taste of it, Sonny chooses to weave through the crowds, even grabs some green beads when they're tossed from one of the balconies. His ears ring with the blare of bagpipes, the outrageous laughter.

He decided the sight of guys' naked torsos, which a couple of people flash as they take off their shirts, would be a lot less uncomfortable after a few drinks.

So would being grabbed by a complete stranger and having him shove his tongue down his throat. The tongue tastes sweet, the combination of a tropical storm and pure unadulterated lust as it brushes over his.

"Thank you." Sonny finally gets out when he manages to pull away.

"Come back with me." The face painted guy shouts. "Let the good times roll!"

Sonny doesn't particularly feel like letting any good times roll with a complete stranger's tongue in his mouth, and escapes into the erupting crowd.

Maybe he's too old for this, he thinks--or maybe it's just the Chicago soil-- but right now he wants to be somewhere he can sit back and enjoy the view instead of being forced to be a part of it.

The doors to the Brady Pub fly open, so the noise from inside pours out, entangled with the noise from the Square. He has to weave his way through the people on the sidewalk, those squished inside, and make his way through to get a spot standing by the bar.

The place is covered with the scent of beer, music and the sound of feet on the floor as people dancing cluster together on the dance floor. Onstage, a bagpipe player belts out such loud notes, Sonny wouldn't be surprised if the thing exploded from too much air.

Will's pouring a draft with one hand, while pouring a shot of Irish whiskey with the other. Two other bartenders are equally busy, and from what he can see, Will has four other waitresses working tables.

Sonny can see his vampire cats looking out from their spot on the shelf behind the bar, and he couldn't be more pleased.

"Beer and a bump." Will says as he slides the glasses into waiting hands. When he sees Sonny, Will holds up one finger, as he serves three more customers as he makes his way over to him.

"What can I get you, hot stuff?"

"You. You're obviously backed up." Sonny adds. "In here and out in the Square."

Will pushes his hair back, the silver key dangling against his sweaty skin as they clash with his green beads. "I can get you a drink, but don't go thinking I have a second to talk, cause I don't."

"Can I help you out?"

Will pushes his hair back again. "With what?"

"Whatever you want."

Someone squeezes their way in, calling out a request for a stout and another draft.

Will reaches behind him for the bottle, shifting to pour the draft. "You know anything about bussing tables, fancy boy?"

"I'm a fast learner."

"See that waiter over there?" Will gestures in the general direction of the chaos. "Tell him you're hired. He'll show you the ropes."

By midnight, he reckons he's carried about half a dozen empty glasses into the kitchen and dumped the equivalent of a landfill of cigars.

He'd had his ass grabbed, stroked and ogled at. What is it with gay guys grabbing other gay guys' asses? Someone should figure that out.

He's completely lost track of how many times he's been propositioned, and really didn't care to think of the big burly guy that had pulled him into his lap.

It was like being wrapped in a three hundred pound grizzly bear soaked in beer.

By two, he's completely amazed by the human tolerance levels for debauchery, and whatever preconceived notions he had about skills and tolerance levels required to work in the food industry, have been promptly abandoned.

The place is still swinging at 3, which makes Sonny decide Will isn't avoiding him after all. Or if he is, he backed it up with a very good reason.

"When's closing time?" Sonny asks as he takes another load towards the kitchen.

"When everyone leaves." Will pours a bottled beer into several plastic cups, handing them out.

"Do they?"

Will smiles, but it's quick and more distracted than anything else as he scans the crowd. "Not so much in an Irish Pub on St. Patrick's Day. Why don't you just go home? We're gonna be stuck here for another hour at least."

"I'm not a quitter."

He carries the empty glasses into the kitchen, right as a trio of incredibly drunk guys--more like neanderthals, Sonny notes--hitting on Will, hard.

And he's handling them just fine, but they weren't letting up.

"If you guys want to last, you should pace yourselves." Will puts a few plastic cups under the taps. "Are you guys driving?"

"Of course not."One of them, wearing a Northwestern T shirt under a mountain of beads, leans in. All the way in. "We got a room up in the city. Why come back with me, handsome? Have us a real good time in the hotel room Jacuzzi."

"That's a really generous offer, but unfortunately I'm currently very busy."

"I'll keep you busy." the guy says, as he grabs his own crotch, has his two friends whistling and whooping.

Sonny moves forward, running a watchful hand over Will's shoulder. "You're currently hitting on my boyfriend." He feels Will stiffen under his hand, watches as the challenge rie up in the Northwestern guy's eyes.

In any other circumstances, Sonny thinks as he sizes the kid up--five eleven, well tones 180--he might be the one to play nice with everyone, save kittens from trees. He might feed the homeless. But right now this guy is just drunk, horny, and a flat out idiot.

As if he's proving Sonny's point, Northwestern hisses, "Go to hell. Or how about we take this outside, so I can kick your ass?"

Sonny's voice is completely good natured. "Now what would be the point of going outside to fight you over him, when all you're doing is admiring my good taste? Amazing, isn't he? If you weren't trying to hit on him, I'd figure your eyes are too drunk to really see anything."

"My eyes are perfect, dumbshit."

"Precisely. Why don't I buy you and your friends a drink? Babe, can you put those on my tab?"

Sonny leans forward in conversation on the bar, nodding at the T shirt. "Holiday break? What's your major?"

Baffled and drunk, Northwestern blinks. "Whaddaya care?"

"Curiosity." Sonny slides a bowl of pretzels closer, taking one.

It's not till well after four when Will lets them into his apartment above the Pub. "Pretty good with the sweet talking with those college drunks. In fact, I'll be nice and not give you hell for the 'my boyfriend' comment."

"You are my boyfriend, you just don't know it yet. And besides, small talk like that is easy."

"Most men would've rolled up their sleeves." Will tosses his keys aside. Gone outside and settled it like men to prove who's ego was bigger." Tired, Will reaches to take off the beads as he studies Sonny. "Must be the CEO in you, with your ability to talk yourself out of a fight."

"The kid wasn't even 23."

"22 last February. I carded all three of them."

"I don't beat up kids. Not to mention, I really don't like getting punched in the face. Hurts like hell." Sonny tips Will's chin up. He looks completely worn out. "Really long shift, huh?"

"Gonna be that way till the excitement dies down. I appreciate you helping me. You held your own."

More than that, Will thinks. The guy had literally fallen right in line with the flow of his pub and made it work. Charmed the customers, put up with the groping, and even avoided a conflict that could've easily escalated by using his words instead of his fists.

The more he gets to know him, Will reflects, the more he wants to know.

Will pulls an envelope out of his back pocket.

"What's this?"

"Your hourly wage."

"Seriously? I'm not taking your money, Will."

"You worked, now I'm paying you. I'm not a freeloader." Will practically shoves the envelope into Sonny's hands. "This is completely off the books, though. Don't feel like going through the paperwork."

"Fine, fine." Sonny stuffs the envelope into his own pocket. He's just gonna spend it on Will anyway.

"Now comes the part where I give you a generous tip." Will wraps his arms around Sonny's neck sliding his body up against his. Eyes wide open, Will lightly bites Sonny's lip, moving in for a kiss.

Sonny's hands go down Will's sides, hooking under Will's hips, then hitches them so they're wrapping around his legs. "Lean on me."

"Oh god, yes."

Sonny nuzzles Will's neck, his ear, working his way back to his mouth as he leads WIll to the bed. "You got any idea what I'm gonna do to you?"

Lust is just right under the surface, next to the relief of not having his full weight on his feet. "I have a very good idea."

Sonny lays him down on the bed, practically hears Will's sigh of relief at not being vertical. He pulls off one shoe. "I'm gonna give you something every gay guy wants." Sonny tosses the shoe aside, then climbs into bed to remove the other.

Tired or not, Will's definitely in a wicked mood. "A shopping spree at Tilly's?"

"Better." Sonny traces a finger over the arch of his thighs. "A foot massage."

"A-a what?"

Smiling, Sonny flexes Will's foot, starting with the toes, watching as Will's eyes go blurry from pleasure.

"Ugggh. Sonny, you seriously have some magic fingers."

"Let yourself relax and enjoy it. The Kiriakis House Special is world renowned. We also offer an extended package that gets you the full body."

"I'll bet you do."

The worst of Will's muscle cramps disappear. As Sonny works his way up to Will's calves, the overworked muscles quiver with equal parts pain and anticipation.

"Do you give yourself any time off after St. Patrick's?"

Will had started to nod off, struggling to stay focused when he hears Sonny speak. "I take the next two days off."

"Slacker." Sonny places a lazy kiss on Will's knee. "Here, let me help you take your clothes off."

Sonny unbuttons Will's jeans first, so Will lifts his hips, stretching lazily. Sonny's pretty sure Will has no idea how husky his voice is, or how slurred his words are. "Where else are you planning to rub me down, huh?"

Sonny treats himself to rubbing Will's nipples, enjoying Will's quick response when he plays with his hair, meets Sonny's lips with his. Sonny pulls his shirt up and off, yanking off the undershirt. Kisses his way down to his nipples while Will arches his back in offering.

Sonny then proceeds to flip Will over to his stomach, making him jerk and groan, before practically collapsing when he feels Sonny knead his neck shoulders. "Had a feeling." Sonny tells him. "All the tension is right here. Same goes for me."

"Sweet Jesus." If Will could only have one wish right this second, it would be for Sonny to keep up his ministrations all week long. "Anyone ever tell you you could make a pretty penny with those hands?"

"It's my fallback career, actually. You've got quite a few serious knots up here. Have no fear, Dr. Sonny is in."

"I love playing doctor."

Will waits for Sonny's tone to drop all pretenses, for his hands to get more rough. He may be sweet now, Will thinks, but he's still just a man.

He'll just take a little siesta, and Sonny can just wake him up himself.


	31. Meant to Be

The next thing Will knows, the sun is shining through his window. A sleepy glance at his clock on the nightstand tells him it's almost ten thirty. It's morning? Will thinks tiredly. How the hell is it already morning?

He also appears to be tucked into bed as well as if his own mom had done it herself.

And he's alone.

Will rolls over onto his back, stretching his limbs and yawning. And suddenly realizes with just a small shock that nothing hurts. Not his neck, feet, not even his back.

Dr. Sonny, Will muses, had done quite a number on him. And is probably at home sulking because he hadn't scored. Who could blame him, when he'd just been a sweetheart, and all he did was just lie there like a dead body.

Gotta be some way to make it up to him, Will tells himself, crawling out of bed to put on coffee before he hits the shower.

Will walks into the kitchen area, staring at the full coffee pot on his counter, along with the note next to it. Will frowns as he picks up the note, switching on the coffee maker to warm up the coffee as he reads the note.

Had to leave. The counter guy is supposed to come this morning. Didn't know when you were gonna wake up, so I was worried about leaving the pot on. But it was fresh as of 7 in the morning, but only if you plan on sleeping around the clock. Did anyone ever tell you how adorable you are when you sleep?

I'll call you later today

SK

"Well aren't you just the darndest thing?" Will mutters as he taps the note against his hand. "Aren't you just a mystery?"

Will really needs to go to the Pub to check on the lunch shift, check on their inventory. After that, his curiosity too great, Will drives himself out to the DiMera mansion.

The door's wide open. Will thinks Sonny's probably the one of the only people, if not the only person, who lives here that would be fine leaving the huge impressive front door open to whoever might come in or out. Small town living or not, someone should give him a serious talking to about installing a security system.

Will can hear the loud racket of the workers in the back of the house, but takes his time making his way over there.

The first room to get his attention is the smoking room. Will crouches down, touching the glossy floor, finding them hard and dry, and just looks as he steps inside.

He really put the work in, is all Will can think. Sonny really knows how to take care of what belongs to him. Really focused on the details and made them important. Color, wood, the very elegant fireplace, the gleam from the windows, which Will has no doubt Sonny washed by hand himself.

"Whaddaya think?"

Will turns, and still framed by the windows, by the light coming from them, looks at Sonny as he stands in the doorway. "I think this mansion has no idea how lucky it is to have you. You really see it how it's supposed to be, and you're definitely gonna work your tail off to put the life back into it again."

"Nice." Sonny crosses the room towards Will. "Really nice. You look really well rested."

"You're not supposed to tell people they look well rested. You're supposed to tell them how good looking they are."

"You've never looked bad a day in your life. You just happen to look well rested along with it."

"Smooth." Will wanders towards the fireplace, trailing a hand over the mantel, stopping when he sees the old picture frame holding a photograph of a young woman. "Alice." Will whispers, and the ache is felt inside him. Deeply.

"Marlena gave it to me. I think you look like her, just a little."

"No, I've never had that much innocence in my face."

Compelled, Will traces a finger over the young, hopeful face.

He's actually seen this particular photograph before, had even studied it just as closely as he is now, piece by piece, at a point in his life when he'd thought the story, the mystery surrounding it, beautiful. At a point in his life when he himself was still young enough to find the beauty in the tragic.

"Weird." Will says. "Having her here. Having a part of me here."

"She belongs in this mansion. So do you."

Will brushes that off, and the sadness in those clear eyes envelop his heart. Turning, he gives Sonny a very long, critical look. Work clothes, Will thinks, tool belt, night stubble. It's becoming more and more difficult to imagine him wearing a business suit and sitting behind a desk.

It's also getting harder and harder to imagine his life with Sonny not in it.

"Why'd you leave my apartment?"

"I thought you'd found my note. The counter guys came today." Sonny points his thumb behind him, towards the kitchen. "Practically had to beg and pay extra just so they'd fit me in on a Monday. I absolutely had to be here."

"You know that's not what I'm talking about. Do not try and tell me you came into my pub, to work--what, was it 6 or 7 hours bussing tables?--and have me a full body massage because you didn't have other things you could've been doing on a Sunday night. You showed up hoping to get lucky, Sonny, and you just up and left with nothing. Why?"

Sonny can feel his anger being poked at, putting a damper on his easygoing mood. "You're really something, Will. How is it you keep managing to turn the simplest thing into something way more complicated than it has to be?"

"Because more often than not, things are rarely, if ever, as they look on the surface."

"Okay, you want the truth? I'll tell you the truth. I did come to the pub because I wanted to see you. I bussed tables because I wanted to help you on a very busy night. I gave you a full body massage because I knew you had to have been on your feet for about 12 hours straight. Then I let you sleep because I knew you needed it, badly. What, has nobody ever done something nice for you just to be nice?"

"As some stupid societal rule, no, they don't. Not unless they're hoping to get something out of it. So what exactly were you hoping to get, Sonny?"

Sonny gives himself a moment, so he doesn't lash out. "That is quite possibly the rudest thing you've ever said to me. If you're so concerned about paying me back, I have about half an hour right now. We can go upstairs, fuck our brains out, and relieve you of your debt. If not, then I have a lot of work to do."

"I didn't mean to offend you." But Will can see now, he obviously has. "I just don't get you. All the men I've ever met, at the very core of them, would've been pissed because they didn't get lucky. That's what I was expecting you to do, and honestly? I wouldn't have blamed you. I'd understand."

"Is it really that difficult for you to understand that I actually care about you so much I'd take sex off the table just so you could actually get some sleep?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'm wrong. That's not rude at all. It's just sad." Sonny watches the color in Will's face depen as those words hit him. He's embarrassed, Sonny realizes. "It's not just all about sex with me. It definitely makes things more exciting, but it's not the only thing keeping me around."

"I always have to know where I stand. If I don't, how do I know this is something I still want, or if I might be looking to change it?"

"So I'm throwing you off the tracks."

"More or less."

"Good. I'm a pretty easygoing guy, Will, but I refuse to be associated with all the other guys you've ever been with. In fact, you won't be with me at all. We'll be together."

"Because that's what you're wanting."

"Because that's how it's meant to be." His tone holds no room for argument. "Nothing we've ever had, or are ever going to have, is going to compare to whatever is between us. And I understand if you still need time to understand that."

"Is this supposed to be how you always get what you want?" Will demands. "Just telling me the rules in a ridiculously reasonable voice?"

"Not rules. Facts." Sonny corrects in what he thinks Will would consider his ridiculously reasonable voice. "And it's only ridiculous because you'd rather be fighting. We've literally spent the last half hour talking when we could've been fucking. Good fucking, or good fighting, takes time. But right now, I'm taking a rain check on both."


	32. Don't Sit Down 'Cause I Moved Your Chair

Will stares at Sonny, trying to come with literally anything he could say at this moment, before finally giving up and laughing. "When you do, can you cash in the fight rain check first? That way we can use the other one for make-up sex. Nice little bonus."

"Sounds like a plan. Do you have to get back right this second, or can you stick around for a few minutes? I need some help handling and unrolling the rug I bought for this room. I was just gonna ask a counter guy, but based on what I'm paying them, I'd rather they do the job I hired them for."

"So now you're a penny pincher? You with the big wads of cash?"

"You don't carry wads of cash if you don't want to get robbed. This way I can get you to actually stick around so I can stare at your face a little longer."

"Clever." In truth, Will actually wants to stay, wants to be here. With him. "Okay, I'll help you with your little rug dilemma. Where is it?"

"Other room." Sonny gestures to the connecting door. "Most of what I've bought so far's being stored in there. I'm gonna work on the library next, so I can clean out what goes in those rooms and that one before starting on this one."

Will moves to the door he opens, then stares bug eyed. Liberace, he thinks, dressed up by a madman with eccentric taste. Tables, couches, carpets, lamps and and what Marlena would call tchotchkes were littered everywhere.

"Jesus, Sonny, when did you have time to get all of this?"

"Here and there. I keep trying to put my foot down, but I never listen. Anyway--" Sonny starts to make his way through the narrow pathways formed by his purchases. "--place is huge. It needs a lot of...stuff. Thought about sticking to the 40s, when the place was originally built. I like to mix it up."

Will spots a hand carved conch shell on top of what he recognizes as a Raoul Lardin side table. "Mission accomplished."

"Check out this lamp." Sonny traces his fingers over the head of a Bradley and Hubbard, crawling with beautiful leafs.

"I've got a soft spot for vintage lamps."

"Sonny, just by looking at all this, I'd say you have a soft spot for everything."

"I know I have a soft spot for you. Found the rug." Sonny pats the long rolled up carpet leaning against a wall. "We can probably drag it, slither it through. Should've kept it closer to the door, but wasn't entirely sold on where I was gonna put it when I first bought it. Now I know."

With their combined strength, they manage to get it on the floor, then, with Sonny bent over and moving backwards, they move it around all the other furniture. Once or twice he has to stop to move a couch, and once more to move a table.

"You know." Will says as they both bend down to their knees, panting slightly, in the smoking room. "In about a month you're just gonna be rolling this thing back up. Nobody leaves rugs lying out during the summer. Too hot."

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

Will sits back on his heels, patting Sonny's face. "Sonny, you'll be thinking about summer well before the end of April. Alright." Will pushes up his sleeves, placing the palms of his hands on the roll. "Ready?"

Both of them on their hands and knees, they fumble along, pushing the carpet, showing off the pattern. Will can only see glimpses of the color and texture, but he can see why Sonny wants it in here.

The flowers and butterflies are soft, blending with a frame that sticks out against an almost turquoise background. Once they have it unrolled, Will gets to his feet to look at the whole effect while Sonny fusses with the framing.

"Why bother having a garden when you have a miniature one right here? I can almost smell th flowers."

"Pretty neat, huh? Works really well in here. I'm gonna use the two Nyle tweed couches in here, and maybe the Queen Anne table. I'll start there, then we'll just keep going."

He looks up at the simple light bulb hanging from the ceiling. "I saw this really nice chandelier. Waterford crystal, Marie Therese. Wish I'd bought it."

"Why don't we see how your couches do in here first?"

"Huh? Oh. Cause they're heavy. I can get Chad to give me a hand with those later. He's supposed to stop by later."

"But I'm here right now."

"Last thing I want is for you to overexert yourself."

Will just gives Sonny a look and walks back to Sonny's makeshift storeroom.

They've just finished putting the second couch in place, and Will's just stepped back to see how it looks, when he hears a baby crying.

Will looks over at Sonny, who looks like he's lost in thought.

"Did one of the counter guys bring a baby with them?" Will asks, and Sonny closes his eyes, sinking down on the couch.

"You can hear it? Nobody else does. The slamming doors, yeah. And the running water, even though nobody's there who could've turned on the faucets. But nobody hears the baby crying."

A chill runs down Will's spine, making him glance uneasily towards the hall. "Where's it coming from?"

"The makeshift nursery, usually. Sometimes it's the bedroom a few doors down from it. Alice's room. But it's usually in the makeshift nursery. It stops when I get close to the door. Chad's been here twice now when it happened. But he didn't hear it. But you do."

"I need to see it. I can't stand hearing a baby cry like that." Will starts up the stairs, and almost as quick as it started, it stops.

For one instant, it's like the whole house has gone silent. Then Will hears the noise in the kitchen, the music from a radio, the men humming as they work.

"That is weird." Will stands on the stairs, one hand on the railing, heart pounding. "I was just thinking about how I wanted to pick up that baby. Everyone always says you should just let babies cry it out, but I don't understand why at all. That's what I was thinking about, and he suddenly stopped crying."

"It's even more weird that you were thinking about picking up your great grandfather. It's Bill." Sonny says when Will turns to look down at him. "I'm positive it's him. Maybe you can hear him because he's your family. Maybe I can because I own the place. I tried to get in touch with the previous owners, to ask them, but they haven't called back."

"They might not want to talk to you."

"Well they can't talk to me at all unless I ask. Does it creep you out?"

Will looks up the stairs again, repeating the same question to himself."It probably should, but no. Not at all. I think it's fascinating. I think--was." Will's cut off as door slams upstairs. "Well, that definitely wasn't the baby." He says, dashing upstairs.

"Will!" But Will's already all the way up there, giving Sonny no choice but to chase after him.

Marching down the hall, Will grabs the knob and flings the door open.

As Will reaches Alice's room, the cold air sweeps in immediately. The shock alone has Will's breath coming out in puffs. Mesmerised, Will wraps his arms around his chest.

"This doesn't feel like the baby." He whispers.

"No, this is angry." When Sonny puts his hands on Will's shoulders to warm him up, the door slams in their face.

WIll jumps--he can't help it. And can clearly hear the nerves in his forced laugh. "Not the best hostess, whoever this ghost is."

"This is the first time I've seen it." There's a hard lump in Sonny's throat as he says it. His heart, Sonny thinks as he takes two steady breaths. "Whoever it is--was--is really, really angry."

"It's Alice's room. Graysons and Hortons are known to have quite a temper when something pisses us off."

"But it doesn't feel like anger from a woman. Definitely not that sweet young woman in the photo downstairs."

"What do you know about women?"

"Excuse me, Abi's my cousin too, and she can be mean when she wants to be. I just meant it feels more...full-force. More aggressive."

"If I was the one murdered and buried in an unmarked grave, I'd be pretty aggressive too." Will forces himself to reach out to grab the ice cold doorknob. "It's not turning."

Sonny puts a hand over Will's. The cold sweeps out again, and the knob turns easily. When thr door opens, there's only an empty room, full of sun and shadows.

"It's just a little scary, isn't it?" But Will manages to step over the threshold.

"Just a bit."

"You know what I think, Sonny?"

"What?"

"I think someone who chooses to stay here, every night without fail, buying furniture to decorate it…" Will turns around and slides his arms around Sonny's waist. "Has bigger balls than anyone I've ever met."

"Yeah?" Taking the invitation for what it is, Sonny leans in and kisses him. "I can put aside another half hour for that sex rain check now."

Will laughs and hugs him, hard. "Sorry, but I have to be getting back now. Monday night's getting closer. But if you happen to be around, at around 3 or 4 in the morning, I might stay awake long enough to…" Will cups a hand between Sonny's legs, stroking the front. "Long enough to give those balls a stretch."

Sonny manages to not whimper, but it's ridiculously close. "Thursday. When you're completely in the clear."

Will's still holding his hand in between his legs, can feel the hardness. "Thursday?"

"When you're in the clear." But Sonny still kisses him, hard, so Will can taste for himself how he feels. "Come out here. We can have dinner. You can stay the night." Sonny pushes Will against the wall. Uses his teeth. "Stay. I want to share a bed with you. Thursday. Tell me you'll come out so we can be together."

"Okay, okay!" WIll pulls himself free. If he lets that go for another minute, Will thinks, they'll never make it to Thursday, and he'll just let them have sex right here on the floor. "I really have to get back. I shouldn't have stayed as long."

Wil looks up and down the hall as he finally steps out of the room. "I don't recall ever spending the night in a haunted mansion. When should I show up?"

"Early."

"I just might do it. You don't need to walk me out." Will shoots him a naughty smile. "Gotta be a problem with all that walking, the shape you're in right now. Stop by the pub if you change your mind."

Sonny raises a fingertip to Will's lips, then kissed him, before letting Will walk away, making finger guns.

Fitting gesture, Sonny thinks. There's times where just one look from Will is as lethal as a well placed bullet.

Long as he holds out till Thursday, he'll eat any bullet fired his way.


	33. Always Remember Me

Rain moves in on Monday night and stays put like an uninvited guest through most of the week. It keeps Sonny inside, by himself. With some random station playing on his boombox, he starts his prep work on the library.

He builds a fire to light up the room as well as warm him up, then finds himself sitting right in front of it, running a finger over the chipped tile. Maybe he'll leave it as is. Not everything has to be perfect. Accidents happen, and they make for wonderful stories.

Sonny really wants to put life back into this mansion, but does that have to mean it has to look exactly like it used to? He's already made changes, and those changes make it his.

If he replaces the tile, was he honoring the mansion's history, or sanitizing it?

It wasn't a happy place to live.

The thought hits him like a chill, despite having his back against the hot fire.

A cold, freezing house, full of secrets and hatred and jealousy.

Death.

_She wants a book. Reading is an enjoyment for her--a slow and wonderful enjoyment. The sight of the library, with all the rows of books, makes her think of it as much of a place of worship as a church.__Now, with Tom in the study with his stepfather going over business in the hospital, and the rain pattering against the windows, she can treat herself to a quiet afternoon to read.__She's still not used to being able to do whatever she wants, so she slips into the room like she knows she's doing something wrong. She no longer folds sheets, dusts tables, or carries dishes.__She's no longer the help in this place, but a wife.__Wife. She embraces the word. It's still so new, so pretty. Just like the tiny bundle of life growing inside her is new. So new, in fact, she hasn't told Tom yet.__Her period is late, when she knows it's never late. She's woken up sick three days and counting. But she's still going to wait one more week. If she says anything now, it could end up being not true.__And she desperately wants a baby. Desperately wants to give Tom a baby. Alice puts a hand on her belly as she wanders along the shelves and imagines the beautiful son or daughter she'd carry into the world.__And maybe, just maybe, a baby will soften up Tom's mother. Maybe a baby will bring happiness into the house like the hope for one brings happiness to her heart.__She chooses Dickens' Great Expectations. The title, she thinks, calls out to her. The DiMera has that in spades. She bites her lip as she flips through the pages. She's a notoriously slow reader, but Tom liked to say that just means she's really stopping to taste the words.__Tripping over them, she thinks, but she's slowly getting better. Satisfied with herself, she turns and sees Santo slouched in one of the chairs, a bottle next to his arm.__Staring at her.__He scares the daylights out of her. Disgusts her. But she reminds herself she's not the help anymore. She's his stepbrother's wife, and should at least try to be civil.__"Hello, Santo. I didn't see you."__Santo lifts the bottle, pouring more liquor into his glass. "That book." he says, before drinking deeply. "Has more than one word in it."__"I know how to read." She stiffens her spine. "And I like it."__"What else do you like?"__She tightens her grip on the book when he stands up, but relaxes again when he walks to the fireplace, resting a shoe in front of it, an elbow on the mantel.__"I'm learning to drive. Tom's teaching me. I'm not so good yet, but I still enjoy it." She really does want to be friends with him. This place deserves to be filled with warmth, laughter and love.__Santo laughs, and she can hear the liquor laced in it. "I'll bet you drive. I'll bet you know how to really get a man's engine running. Those sweet innocent eyes may work on my step brother--he's always been blind. But I know exactly what you are, and what you're really doing here."__"I'm your step brother's wife." Someone has to be the one to take the first step towards getting along. For Tom, for the baby growing inside her, she takes it, walking towards Santo. "All I've ever wanted was for him to be happy. I do that. You're his family, Santo. It's not right that we keep fighting like this. I want to at least try and be your step sister. A friend, even."__He knocks back the rest of his drink. "You want to be my friend?"__"Yes, for Tom's sake, we should--"__"How friendly are you?" Santo lunges at her, grabbing her breasts painfully tight.__The sheer shock of it freezes her in place. The insult comes through the shock with a flaming heat. Her hand smacks his cheek, hard enough to send him staggering.__"Bastard! Filth! Ever try to touch me again, I'll kill you with my bare hands. I'm Tom's. I'm your step brother's wife."__"My brother's slut!" He shouts as she runs for the door. "Grayson whore, I'll have you dead before you take what's rightfully mine."Raging, he pushes himself away from the mantel. The heavy candlestick falls off, smashing against the edge of the tile, chipping off a corner._

Sonny's not even moving. When he's back inside his body, he's still sitting in front of the fireplace, back to the fire, the rain still hitting on the ground, running down the windows.

Just like it was, he thinks in the...vision? Amnesia? Delirium?

He pushes the heel of his hands right between his eyes, where a pounding headache is stabbing him like a spike through his skull.

Maybe they're not ghosts at all, he thinks. Maybe he has a fucking brain tumor. It would make much more sense. Literally anything else would make more sense.

Doors slamming, cold spots, even the sleepwalking are conditions of buying the mansion he can handle. But those people were in his head. He'd heard them right here--the words, the tone. But so much more unsettling, was how he'd felt them.

His legs are weak, almost give out from under him as he gets to his feet. He has to grab the mantel, fingers holding on tightly, it's a wonder the marble doesn't break off.

If there's really something wrong with him, physically or mentally, he needs to deal with it. Kiriakises don't run and hide in the closet when things get hard.

Deciding he's as steady as he's going to get, he goes into the kitchen to grab an aspirin. Which, he decides as he pours out four, is like trying to put a bandaid on a broken limb. But he swallows them down, then rests the cold glass against his forehead.

He'll drive up to Chicago and see his Uncle Vic. He might know a neurosurgeon he can talk to. Just a few days, and a few tests, and he'll know if he's crazy, possessed or dying.

He starts to go for his phone, before stopping himself and shaking his head. Insane, he thinks, now has another thing going for it. If he goes to Uncle Vic, word would spread the family like the plague.

And besides, what's the point in going to Chicago? Salem has doctors. He'd get a name from Chad. He'll just tell him he wanted to get himself a doctor, dentist, and all the rest in town. Logical.

He'll get himself a physical, then ask the doctor to recommend a specialist. Short, sweet, and to the point.

If ghosts can't drive him away from the DiMera mansion, he'll be damned before a brain tumor will.

As he puts down the glass, a door slams on the second floor. He just glances up at the ceiling and gives a grim smile.

"Yeah, well this is no picnic for me either."


	34. Ahead of the Storm

By Thursday, he has a better grip on everything again. Maybe it's the excitement over seeing Will that has him in a better mood--combined with all the work he's managed to finish on those last days before he showed up. He has an appointment with Chad's doctor the following week, and now that he's taken that step, is able to shove all that worry about what could be wrong with his brain to the side.

There hasn't been any more bouts of temporary amnesia. At least, Sonny thinks, none that he knows of.

The rain's finally moved on to darken another state's doorstep, and but it left behind for him the first flowers scattered along one of his paths to the garden.

The forecast had predicted a snowfall in Chicago, and he had immediately called his mom to brag about it.

The sun as well as the promise of spring has him changing his course earlier than he's planned. He'd put off more work on the library and set up shop outdoors to work on the second floor veranda, to fix the damage.

Sonny listens to music, and feels stronger than an ox. He's gonna have his guys do the majority of the early planting, he decides. He just doesn't have the time. But definitely next year, he's gonna do it himself. Or as much as he's able.

This time next year, he's gonna sit out here on the veranda on Sundays in the morning, eating powdered doughnuts, drinking coffee--with Will. Lazy Sundays looking out over the lawn and the gardens. And maybe a few years after that, watching the kids play in the yards, in the gardens.

He's wanted his own family his whole life, and it's good to know that about yourself. He's never really had that need inside him before, the need to grab the here and now by the horns while look hopefully towards what's yet to come.

So Sonny knows it's right, what he feels for Will. What he's planning for them. He'll help him in the pub whenever he needs it, but he'll have his own job.

He turns over his hands, looking at his palms, the calluses that had developed. The little cuts and scars he's thought of as battle scars, medals of honor.

He'll use them, his back and imagination to work on other's houses. People in Salem will first think of Jackson "Sonny" Kiriakis when they ask for a contractor.

You should've seen the DiMera mansion before he bought it, they'll say. You want a real bang for your buck, give Sonny a call. He'll take good care of you.

Just the idea makes him smile as he rips out a rotten piece.

By 4, he's finished the whole veranda floor and even managed to stretch his entire body on it, facedown, to give himself a break. He falls asleep with Rick Springfield wishing he has Jesse's girl.

And he's still asleep when he gets up and walks down the sagging curve of the stairs all the way out to the front lawn.

The grass is thick between his toes, the heat of the sun pouring over his face, beating down on his head despite his tanned Greek skin.

Others are inside, but he wants to look at the pond, at the lily pads. He wants to sit in the shade of the tree that overlooks the water, and read a book.

He likes the music from the songbirds, and doesn't really mind the heat. The heat tells the truth. The cold air inside the DiMera mansion drips with deception.

It's so devastating to watch the house he loves rotting away from resentment.

He stops right at the edge of the pond, looking at the green saucers of the lily pads, the little buds adorned on top. He watches a butterfly fly by, the sun showing off its wings so it's a colorful blur. He hears the splash of a frog, the chirping of a cicada.

He turns when he hears his name called. And smiles when he sees the man he loves crossing the lawn over to him. As long as they're together, Sonny thinks, as long as they love each other, the DiMera mansion will not fall.

"Sonny! Sonny!"

Panicked, Will grabs his arms and shakes him. He'd watched Sonny go down those uneasy stairs as he'd walked up the driveway, how he was walking towards the pond in a weird, hesitating stride completely unlike his normal confident one.

His eyes are open, but they're completely glazed over, that tells Will he's really not seeing him at all, instead seeing something--or someone--else.

"Sonny." Will keeps his voice firm, along with his hands as he lays one on Sonny's backside, the other firm on his face.

"Sonny, look at me. Can you hear me? It's Will."

"Come sit with me under the tree so nobody can see us."

There's no tree, only a rotten stump. Panic rises up in Will's throat, but he forces it back down. Trusting his gut, Will leans in and rests his lips on Sonny's.

The time it takes for Sonny to respond is slow and dreamy, kind of sliding over him. Against him. Inside him. So Will knows the second Sonny wakes up by the way his body goes stiff. He sways slightly, but Will doesn't let go.

"Easy, Sonny. Just don't let go of me until you can walk again."

"S-sorry. Gotta sit down." Sonny collapses straight down into the grass, resting his head on his knees. "Whoa."

"You're okay. You're okay." Will kneels beside Sonny, brushing his hair with his fingers and murmuring nonsense. "Take a minute to catch your breath."

"What the hell is happening to me? I was on the veranda. I was working on the veranda."

"Is that the last thing you remember?"

Now Sonny looks up, looks at the pond. "I have no idea how I got here."

"You came down the stairs. The ones from the side of the house. I thought you were gonna barrel right through them." Will's heart almost clenches again, remembering how unsteady they are. "Those things aren't safe, Sonny. You should block them off."

"Yeah." Sonny rubs a hand over his face. "Have myself committed to a mental institution while I'm at it."

"You're not crazy."

"I'm sleepwalking in broad daylight. I'm seeing things I know aren't really there. I'm hearing voices. That doesn't sound like someone who isn't crazy."

"That's just your sheltered childhood talking. But here in Salem, that's not even something to write home about. Hell, my grandma Marena had an exorcism when she was possessed by the devil, performed by my step grandfather when he was still alive."

"What did he do?"

"Oh, classic exorcism 101 from the bible. Cross against the chest to cast him out. You starting to feel better?"

"I have no idea. What the hell did I do? What did you see me do?"

"You came down the stairs and walked straight towards the pond. You weren't walking normally, so I knew something wasn't right."

'What do you mean?"

"You have this nice, confident stride when you walk, and you weren't doing that. Then you stopped when you got to the pond."

No way in hell is Will gonna tell him how for one terrifying moment, he was convinced Sonny was going to walk right into the water.

"I kept calling out for you, until you finally turned around, and you smiled at me." Will's stomach clenches as he remembers. "But you weren't smiling at me. I don't think you actually saw me at all. You said you wanted to sit under the tree, where no one can see us."

"But there's not even a tree here."

"Actually." Will points towards the stump. "There used to be, at one point. Sounds like your dreams are about things that happened a long time ago. It's a gift, Sonny."

"Where's the receipt?" Sonny shakes his head. "I have no idea, because when I wake up, I don't remember anything. But now I'm wondering if I should start restraining myself when I go to bed."

"I can help you with that tonight."

"...Did you just tell me one of your kinks?"

"Did it work?"

"Not a bad try." Sonny takes a breath, then frowns once he realizes. "Jesus, it's Thursday. Not only don't I know where I am, I don't even know when I am."

Will can't stand the thought of watching him sink in despair again, so he keeps his voice hasty and imposing. "Let me guess. You didn't make it out to the city?"

Sonny winces, "You sound like Abi. I just forgot. Kind of."

Will arches an eyebrow. "Sounds to me like you need all the support you can get." With that, he takes Sonny's face in his hands, and kisses his forehead, which serves to make Sonny smile.

"Probably not gonna work, but thanks anyway. What time is it?" Sonny checks his phone and swears. "I need to trade my phone in. It keeps saying the wrong time. I know it's past noon, but it sure as hell isn't midnight."

"It's almost four. You did say to come early."

"You're right. I did say that. Wanna sit back and drink some wine with me?"

Will watches him closely for the next few minutes, but he appears to be fine as he chooses a wine. Gets out some lovely old wine glasses out of his new cabinets.

Sonny had scared the crap out of him, Will has no problem admitting. Badly. He was so sure Sonny was planning to walk into the water, drowning himself under the lily pads in the way of Thomas Horton.

And with that realization, comes a new possibly that hits him like a bolt of lightning.

"Sonny..."

"I have steaks and a grill." Sonny says as he pours the wine. He needs to focus on the mundane things--keep himself here in the present. "Every guy worth their salt can cook steak. If you don't eat red meat, we'll have to settle for frozen pizza."

"What do I care what color meat is if I eat it?" Will jokes. "Let's sit outside. I have a theory I want to share with you."

They walk over to the two wooden boxes Sonny's currently using for chairs, and sit down.

"What if it's not ghosts at all? Or not just ghosts?" Will asks him.

"Oh that's an awesome thought. What else could it be? Zombies? Vampires? Maybe a good old fashioned curse. That's just what I need to sleep at night. Thanks a lot."

"What would you say if I told you it might be reincarnation?"

"What, like past lives? An old soul being reborn in the present?" Sonny shrugs. "I have no idea."

"I always thought it was a good system. A fair one, too. Everyone deserves a second chance, don't they? Maybe all your dreams and sleepwalking is you remembering things that happened here because you used to be here before. Maybe you're Tom, coming back after all these years to find his beloved Alice."

"That's romantic. If I'm Tom, you're Alice."

"You don't get to pick, smartass. And if you're not gonna take it seriously, I'm just gonna stop talking."

"Okay, don't need to get snippy with me." Sonny sips his wine, staring off into space. "So your theory is I came here, and all these weird things that have been happening are because in a past life, I was Thomas Horton?"

"Can't be as crazy as the idea of the place being haunted. Explains why you bought it in the first place, why you needed to. Why you're so desperate to return it to its former glory. Why you're seeing the disappearing furniture in his bedroom upstairs."

"Reincarnation." Sonny repeats. "I'll take that over a brain tumor?"

"A what?!"

Sonny shakes his head, "Nothing."

"You seriously think you have a brain tumor? That's ridiculous, Sonny." Will's tone is harder than he's meant it to, so he tries more gently. "That's completely idiotic. There's absolutely nothing wrong with your brain, or any other important part of your body."

"Course not. Just thinking out loud."

But Will can see it all over Sonny's face, and after standing up, slides over to sit in his lap. "You honestly think you have something in your brain that's affecting your vision, your behavior?"

"I don't think that. I just…look, I'm just taking some tests, so I can completely rule it out."

"You're not sick, Sonny." Will kisses one of his cheeks, then the other.

Never in his life has there been a guy who repeatedly, so easily, brings out his soft side. "I promise you. But if having some doctor tell you the exact same thing helps you accept it, go right ahead."

"Please don't say any of this to Chad." Sonny takes Will's hand until Will eases back to look him in the eyes. "He's already got enough with the wedding. That's more than enough for him to be worrying about."

"You seriously mean to tell me you're doing all those brain testsby yourself? That's not how we do things in Salem, Sonny. If you don't want to tell Chad, fine. But tell me when your appointment is, and I'll go with you."

"Will, I'm a grown man."

"I'm not letting you go by yourself. Either I'm coming with you, or I tell Chad and we force you to take us both.

"Fine! I'll let you know when I schedule it, and I'll let you hold my hand. But right now, I'm betting on your current reincarnation theory. It's definitely out there, but it's bound to be a lot less messy, or expensive, than brain surgery."

"They say Thomas Horton was handsome. Like another James Dean." Will trails a hand into his disheveled hair.

It's dark, Will muses, and he bets it'll definitely streak in the summer.

"I think you're a serious improvement this time around."

"Oh really?" Sonny hooks his arms around his waist. "Let's hear some more."

"I've never been one to go for the James Dean type. Too flashy for my taste." Will cocks his head, leaning in to kiss him. "You suit my taste just fine."

Sonny pulls him closer, and, while still sitting on the crate, rests his chin on Will's shoulder as he looks out from the back porch. "I love you, Will."


	35. Sign of the Times

Will doesn't react for a moment, then tries to gloss over it with a teasing smile, "If that's just supposed to be foreplay before you feed me--"

Sonny draws him back, and when Will sees the look on his face, Will drops the smile altogether.

"I love you." Sonny repeats. "I don't think I ever really knew what that really meant before, because I don't think I was able to."

Sonny holds Will in place when Will tries to wriggle out of his hold. "You need to wind down." Will tells him.

"You're right, I do--but not the way you're thinking. I need to wind down right here. With you. I don't care if this is the first time we've ever met, or the millionth. You're the one."

"Sonny, you're turning this into something it's not." Will's voice is so close to shaking. His stomach is already there. "We had one date. We slept together. We've hung out only a few times."

"All it took was the first time I saw you."

Sonny's eyes are so deep, Will thinks, so clear. Like the surface of a lake at the witching hour. "You barely know me!"

Sonny pulls him back again, reminding Will of the hardness in him, along with a sharp edge. "You're so wrong. I know how smart and strong you are. Strong enough to take over a bar with almost nothing to your name. I know you always honor your commitments. I know how loyal and loving you are. I know you've been hurt by someone before, and it would take next to nothing for someone to hurt you again. Just like I know I'm scaring the crap out of you because you're trying to convince yourself you're not ready to hear this."

Will's heart pounds painfully, like stabbing a bruise. "I don't want to fall in love, Sonny. I'm sorry."

"Neither did I, and here we are. We don't have to rush anything. I wasn't going to say all of that just yet but...I knew I had to."

"Sonny, people fall in and out of love all the time. It's just chemicals in the brain."

"He really did a number on you, didn't he?"

Pissed, Will pushes himself away, and this time Sonny lets him go. "You're completely wrong. There's not some guy, or the ghost of an ex who broke me. Do I look like a cliche to you?"

"You're everything to me."

"Good God." There he goes again, making his throat get tight and close up at the same time. Will purposely fights it back so he can say very clearly. "I like you, Sonny, and I really enjoy hanging out with you. I want to have sex with you. If you're not okay with that, I'm walking away now so I can save us both all the hassle and future humiliation."

"Is getting pissed at someone after they tell you they love you just your MO?"

Nobody's ever gotten that far, Will almost says. Nobody who actually meant it. "I don't like being forced, and when I feel like I am, I see to it I don't fall for it."

"I can definitely respect that." Sonny's smile is easy as he stands up. "I like you too, Will. And I like hanging out with you, and I want to have sex with you. For now, that's enough. You hungry? I'll fire up the grill."

If this is some kind of trick, Will thinks, or some kind of ploy to keep him guessing, it's working.

Will just can't figure this guy out at all, and his perfect shift in mood is a definite way to challenge him to keep trying to figure it out.

Sonny cooks like a man who doesn't trust himself to not go overboard. Potatoes wrapped in foil on the grill, steaks. And he somehow buttered Will up into tossing a salad.

He doesn't bring up love again.

Instead, he asks Will about work, how his pub had managed on the two rainy days. He puts on some music, keeping it low, and talks through the door as the grill smokes as he chops the vegetables.

They could easily be just friends, or an old married couple.

They eat in his beautiful kitchen, by the light of the candles. Even the mansion is taking a break. Despite it--or maybe because of it--Will's still on edge for the whole meal.

Sonny takes a cake out of the fridge. Will takes one look and sighs. "I can't."

"Save for later?"

Sonny's making him uncomfortable, Will thinks. Best thing to do is to make him just as much, if not more, uncomfortable.

Will steps behind Sonny as Sonny scans his fridge, then Will wraps his arms around his waist, pushing his body against his own.

Sonny lets Will spin him around and shove him back against the fridge.

Oh does he know Will, Sonny thinks as he uses Will's lips to set off fireworks in his blood. He's wel aware how Will's trying to stay one step ahead of him with sex. By taking a step away from him.

If WIll doesn't realize Sonny can love him as much as he wants to have sex with him, it's up to Sonny to show him.

"You said we'd share a bed." Will's mouth is dangerous, restless as it goes all over Sonny's face. "Let's go to bed."

Will pulls Sonny towards the doorway. He almost pulls Will back, towards the stairs by the kitchen, but decides the long way around is better.

Sonny pushes Will against the wall in the hallway, attacking his throat with his teeth. We're getting there."

Sonny reaches down, pulling Will's shirt up, over his head, throwing it to the side. Wrapped up in each other, they roll along the wall, until they finally stop with Sonny against the wall. Impatiently, Will pulls Sonny's shirt open so the buttons fly right off.

They fight with their clothes on their way to the stairs. Shoes land with loud thumps. Will's undershirt lands on the railing, Sonny's pants falling on the third step up.

They're practically gasping for air when they reach the top.

Sonny's hands are rough, a worker's hands that thrill him as they stroke over Will's body. It's like his whole body is being ignited.

"Hurry." Will bites Sonny's shoulder as need barrels down on him, a fiery blast of heat that's burning all of his mindfulness away. "Please hurry."

Sonny almost takes Will right where they're standing, but he wants Will underneath him. Bucking and arching.

WIth his mouth devouring Will's, he wraps his arms around Will's waist, lifting him slightly off the floor. Something vulnerable and primal stabs him at knowing there's never really been a choice. No choice either of them could ever make but to make love.

Shadows cover them as they move towards the bedroom.

Cold from the doorways leak out, making Will shiver.

"Sonny."

"This is who we are. This belongs to us." As Sonny speaks, voice with a slight snarl as he holds Will in his rock solid grip, the cold retreats.

They fall on his bed, tangled up in their own limbs and urgency to be closer. When Sonny pushes into Will, Will digs his nails into Sonny's back. Dark and desperate pleasure soaks Will, the wild glory of it driving him up to where he wraps himself around Sonny to match the pace.

There's no control, nor real desire for any. Only the wild need to take it and take it until there's nothing left to take, and take that too. And with that, the gnawing need to give it all back.

Wil clings to Sonny, riding out the wave of pleasure, climbing up and up towards the unstable cliff once again.

Somewhere, Will hears a clock chime heavily. On the 12th bong, Will comes with Sonny.

When Sonny starts to pull away, Will's grip tightens. "Hold up. Don't you go moving away."

"I'm too heavy." Sonny rubs his lips on the curve of Will's throat.

"I like that. This too." Lazily, Will moves his head so Sonny can work his way up to his jaw.

Will feels like he's been used and bruised and left so unbelievably wide open. "Better than cake."

Sonny laughs and rolls over, taking Will with him so Will's laying on his chest. "There, now I won't crush you underneath me."

"A gentleman down to the bitter end." Sated, Will settles in. "I've always liked a clock that chimes the hour." he says. "But it's not midnight. You should get it set correctly."

"I know."

"Sounds like a grandfather clock. Where is it? The smoking room?"

"No." Sonny runs a hand through Will's hair, down his back. "I don't have a grandfather clock."

"Sonny, you were definitely ringing my bells, but I know for a fact I heard twelve bongs."

"As did I. And I still don't own a clock."

Will lifts his head, letting out a slow breath. "Oh. Well, does that bother you?"

"Nope."

"Then it doesn't bother me either." Will says, laying his head back over Sonny's heart.


	36. Still In Love With You

The only way, in Sonny's opinion, to get past all obstacles in your way, is to not go at them full force and risk hurting yourself, but instead to slowly wear them down. Gradually, and reasonably. Insistently. Whether it's a business deal, a game, or even a romantic interlude, it's vital to keep the goal in mind to get there so you can choose the right path.

He finds out which church Will and his grandmother go to, as well as which service. Research is always imperative.

When he sits in the pew next to them on Sunday, he gets a very suspicious look from Will, and a knowing wink from Marlena.

He knows God would understand and appreciate what he's doing, and not take it personally for using Sunday's Mass to reach his goal.

But no way is he going to share this epiphany with his mom. In Sonny's experience, she's no less than completely unmoving, more so than God himself.

Aiming his charm towards Marlena, he invites them to brunch afterwards, and gets another cold stare from Will as Sonny gives his name to the hostess. He'd made reservations for three beforehand.

"You're pretty cocky, aren't you?"

Sonny's eyes are one of complete innocence. "I'm just well prepared."

"You're no saint, pal." Will tells him.

"Your grandson's a but of a cynic." Sonny responds as he offers an arm to Marlena.

"No, he's smart." Marlena pats a hand on his. "A man like him is all about sweet talking, good looking men. A man that comes into church just to spend time with him, that makes that man pretty smart too."

"Just thought I'd come and pray."

"What were you praying for?"

"That you'd fly away with me to Amsterdam."

Marlena laughs as she slides into the chair Sonny holds out. "You're the one, aren't you?"

"Yes." Sonny looks right at Will. "I have every intention of being the one."

They settle in with mimosas and the first go at the huge buffet. While a harp plays nearby, Sonny tells them about his progress on the mansion.

"I'm gonna keep working on the outside as long as the weather permits. Eli's still working on the platser, and I'm still looking for a painter for the exterior. I really don't want to do that myself. The one that painted the smoking room came in to look at the library, but he left kind of unexpectedly."

Sonny's face is completely remorseful as he sips his drink. "I'm pretty sure he's not coming back. Neither is the tile guy. He finished maybe half of one bathroom before he threw in the towel."

"I can put some feelers out." Marlena offers.

"Thank you, but I think I should start looking outside Salem or at least try and do it myself. Things are getting a lot more lively at the DiMera mansion."

"A bunch of grown men running scared of a few slammed doors." Will sneers. "You'd think they'd have more balls."

"It's not just that. A clock sounding off when there isn't one. Music in empty rooms. When the painter was still there, the doors in the library kept opening and shutting. And, of course, let's not forget the screaming."

"There's screaming now?"

"The tile guy." Sonny smiles weakly. "Tells me he saw someone walk into the bedroom, thought it was me. He's just chattering away, setting tiles, listening to what he thinks is me moving around. But because I was apparently not answering any of his questions, he gets up and walks in. There's no one there. From what I tried to get out of him while he was still somewhat coherent, the bathroom door slammed behind him, and the logs in the fireplace caught on fire. He said it felt like someone put a hand on his shoulder. I practically had to drag him out myself when I finally went up there."

"What do you think it was?" Marlena asks.

"A few things. It feels like the more work on the place that gets finished, the more aggressive and violent the...paranormal incidents, let's call them. Especially when I, uh, do something not in the original design."

Will scoops up some eggs. "What do you mean?"

"Take the plasterwork. The areas where that's happening, things are fine. But wherever I made changes, the bathroom, the tiles, that's where things get really interesting. It's like whoever's in there is really pissed off about us not following the original design."

"That's definitely something to think about." Marlena comments.

"Believe me, I have. I think it's Adelaide Horton." Even here, with the tinkling harp and the champagne pouring, the name still fills him with dread. "Woman of DiMera Hall. All it takes is a look at her photos for you to know she's a woman who does not like to be defied. Now here I am putting my dirty hands all over her precious mansion."

"So you've just resigned yourself to coexisting with her?" Marlena asks, watching his jaw clench.

"I'm living in the DiMera mansion, and I'm doing it my way. If she wants to throw a royal tantrum, that's not my problem."

Will sits back. "What do you think, grandma? Courageous or gutsy?"

"I say both. Not a bad mix to be."

"Thanks, but I don't think courage has a lot to do with it. It's my mansion, period. But you can't blame a guy who was only there to do the job he was paid for to take off. Anyway, Marlena, what do you think? Do you think my roommate is Adelaide Horton?"

"I think there's two diffetent forces at work here. The one that brought you to the mansion, and the one that wants you gone. Matter of strength."

Marlena picks up her glas sagain, smiling. "Imagine, champagne for breakfast."

"Come with me to Amsterdam, we can drown in it."

"If I keep drinking, I just might say yes."

"I'll grab another round."

He's so sweet with her, Will thinks. Flirting with his grandma until blush stains her cheeks throughout the long, lazy meal. Sonny goes the extra mile for people, Will muses. Takes actual time and effort to find out what a person likes, then does everything in his power to make it happen.

He's attentive, witty, hot, loaded, tough, and kind.

And he said he's in love with him.

Will can honestly say he knows Sonny well enough to know he never says it unless he really means it. Which is exactly why it's so unnerving to him.

Because on top of all those other things, the man's always honest. And stubborn to a fault.

Sonny could easily make Will fall for him. He's already slowly getting there and falling hard. Every time Will tries to pull himself off the ground, he falls again. The plunge is worrying as well as exciting.

But what happens when he finally hits the ground? Once he finally stops free falling, there's no getting back off the ground. This is something Will has always known to be true. Relationships are so easy when they weren't important, or were only important for right now.

When that importance stays, it changes everything.

They're already changing, Will has to admit. It all started with this longing for Sonny deep in his bones. And now with the comfort and challenge he always feels when he's with Sonny. Actually able to imagine feeling it every minute. Feeling it every day.

Sonny would want things Will's still terrified to give, even now.

Not terrified, Will corrects himself, annoyed at himself. Hesitant to give. Unwilling.

Then Will watches Sonny lean over and kiss Marlena's cheek and is still terrified--pretending otherwise by now is meaningless--that he'll wind up giving Sonny anything he asks of him.


	37. Clock of the World

Sonny Kiriakis is courting Will Horton. The term is particularly appealing to Sonny, because it conjures up images of sitting on a porch swing in the moonlight, drinking lemonade or dancing.

Throughout the remainder of March, two things occupy his mind, schedule and plans. Will, and the DiMera mansion.

He celebrated the clean bill of health he recieves on his neurological scans by going antiquing. Spring has really brought the flowers to life, and has several pedestrians stopping to look.

The automobiles the tourists love to drive past with the rolling of the tires on the street.

Summer would wrap her heavy blanket soon enough, and turn the air humid. Just the thought of it reminds him he needs to upgrade the conditioning, maybe consider installing a few fans in the rooms.

Sonny buys with his usual caution flinging attitude, making several shopkeepers' days, before he stops in a place called simply, Blast from the Past.

It's just the usual mess of statues, lamps, old accessories and jewelry, with three curtained booths where people can tell you your future.

It's the ring that catches his eye first. The high polished center balanced by two rows of engraved scrolls.

The second he touches it, Sonny knows he wants to get it for Will. He knows how insane it is to buy an engagement ring when they're not that far into a relationship. And it's ridiculous to grab the first ring he sees without even looking at others.

But this is the one he wants to put on Will's finger. If a guy can buy a broken down mansion on a complete whim, what difference is a ring gonna make?

"I'll take it."

"It's incredible." says the shopkeeper. "She's lucky."

"_He_ still needs convincing."

Some things are just meant to be, Sonny tells himself. He lifts the ring again, can already see it on Will's finger--just like the clerk can see him as an impulse buyer.

Sonny leans on the counter and puts his business negotiating skills to work.

He figures they've reached reasonably fair terms when the shopkeeper's smile is still intact, despite it not being as brilliant.

"Will that be all?"

"Yeah, I should go. I'm already--." Sonny cuts himself off when he looks at his phone and sees it's stopped at 12:00 once again.

"You know, I could use a timepiece. An antique timepiece. My phone's been stupid, and I've been knee deep in carpentry. Probably dropped it one too many times on the job."

"I have a wonderful variety of timepieces and chains. Much more inspired than anything high tech."

shopkeeper leads him over to another cabinet, pulling out a drawer and setting it on the counter.

"A piece like this doesn't just tell time." He starts, "It tells a story. This one--."

"No." The edges of Sonny's vision start to dim like fog. The chitchat of voices from other customers fade away to a dull hum. Part of him is still aware enough to know he's being pulled away from himself. Even as he tries to fight it, he watches his own hand reach out, picking up a silver lapel watch hanging from its chain.

The shopkeeper's voice is barely heard, because it's another one that's demanding to be heard, clear as a bell. Female, young. Excited.

_It's for my husband. For his birthday. Can you engrave it? _

Sonny already knows exactly what he's going to see, before he's even looked at the clip.

_To Tom from his Alice_

_For all the days of our lives_

_March 7, 1940 _

"Mr. Kiriakis? Mr. Kiriakis, are you alright? Do you need some water? You're looking really pale."

"Huh?"

"Do you need some water? Can I offer you a seat?"

"No." Sonny closes his hand tightly over the watch, but whatever he's feeling is already slipping away. "No, I'm alright. I'll take this too."

More than a little rattled, he goes to Chad's office. He thought some practicality in Chicago's business district, in the rationality of Titan Industries, might help calm him down.

More than that, he just wants a few minutes with a friend who, even if they think he's crazy, still loves him.

"If I'd known you'd be dropping by." Chad starts as he closes the door to his office, "I could've moved some stuff around so we could have lunch."

"I wasn't planning on stopping by."

"Shopping again, huh?" Chad gestures to the bag Sonny's holding. "Sure you haven't had anything sent down from up here?"

"Actually, I do. Mostly books." Sonny says as he walks around the office. He skims his gaze over the books, the files, even the memos. All of it, the rubble of the CEO, feels so far away from him now.

"A few pieces I had in my office up here should work in the library."

He picks up a paperweight, then puts it back down. Slips his hand into his pocket, to jangle the loose change.

"You gonna tell me the real reason you're here, or you planning on making a hole in my carpet?" With his suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, tie loose, sleeves rolled up, Chad kicks back in his chair and tosses a tennis ball back and forth. "You're starting to freak me out."

"Remember when I told you about all the things that were happening?"

"You mean the stuff I heard with my own ears when I dropped in? I still wish you'd just told me the music we heard was just from a music player you'd left on by accident."

"Guess I'll just have to get a piano for the ladies' quarters, since it seems to be focused on that spot. I like playing anyway, when I actually remember to sit down."

Chad catches the tennis ball in one hand, letting it fall on the desk. "So you're here to tell me about buying a piano?"

"I bought a watch."

"And you're just here to show it off? Want me to call in my secretary, some of my colleagues too?"

"It's Tom Horton's lapel watch."

"Seriously?" The tennis falls onto the floor, from Chad pushing it off. "How do you know it's his? Where'd you find it?"

"Little shop in Salem." Sonny pulls out the box, setting it on the desk. "See for yourself."

Chad obliges, taking the lid off. "Very nice, if you have to look at something whenever you have to know a patient's time of death. Little heavy." He adds when he picks it up.

"So you don't...feel anything coming off of it?"

"Like what?"

"Look at the clip."

"The names and dates match up." Chad says definitively. "Pretty amazing luck, you finding this."

"It can't be luck. I walk into an antique shop, buy a ring for Will, and--"

"Whoa, hold on right there. A ring?"

"I told you I'm marrying him." Sonny shrugs. "I found the perfect ring. Doesn't hurt to have it handy. But that's not the point."

"It's still a pretty damn big one. Does Will know anything about this?"

"I told him exactly how I feel. What I want from him. I'm letting him think it over for now. Can we please focus on the watch?"

"Jesus, Sonny. You were always stubborn. But please, be my guest."

"I walk into the shop, decide to buy a timepiece because my phone's clock is all screwy again. I decide this despite having never owned one before in my life, never even thought about buying one. Then I see this one, and I just know. I know it's Tom's, know Alice bought it for him for his birthday, before I saw it on the clip. The exact inscription, along with their wedding date. Because I could hear every single word."

"I have no idea what to think about that." Chad combs his fingers through his hair. "What about that thing where you touch something, and you can see stuff from it? Like it's life story?"

"Psychometry. I've been doing my homework on all this stuff in my down time." Sonny explains when Chad frowns. "But nothing like that has ever happened before. Will has a theory that it has something to with reincarnation."

Chad thinks on it as he puts the lapel watch back in the box. "I guess I'd be a lot more likely to believe that than...psycho-something."

"If that's what t is, that means the mansion, and now this watch, are triggering memories of a past life. Even you have to admit it's weird."

"It's never not been weird, Sonny."

"But here's where it really gets interesting. If I start to go down that route, and accept I was Tom in a past life, then I just know Will is Alice. What I don't know is if I'm supposed to move him into the mansion, to make things right, or if I'm supposed to keep him away."


	38. Mother's Little Helper

In the Horton Town Square, where Will prepares to leave his apartment for the pub and his afternoon shift, he opens the door and walks right into another cycle. A bad one.

"Will!" Kristen DiMera throws out her arms.

Slow from shock, Will's completely unable to move away before they wrap around him like a vice. Stuck, he's slapped in the face with several impressions. Too much perfume that doesn't cover the smell of booze, the skinny body hardened by years of hardship. Sticky hairspray on top of blonde hair.

And underneath it all is nothing but his own twisted dread.

"Stopped by the pub first, and that cute guy said you were still up here. I'm so glad I found you!" The voice is deceptively light that just resounds loudly in the air. "Let me just take in the view. I swear you're hotter every time I track you down. Honey, I just gotta have a seat and take a breath. I'm so thrilled to see you, I can barely breathe."

She's slurring her words, Will notes, walking too fast on shoes paired with his dress pants. Both warning signs that she's already hit the bottle for her drink of choice just recently.

"Love what you've done with the place." Kristen plops himself into a chair, dumping a bag beside her. She claps her hands like a giddy little child. "I really love it. It suits you."

She'd been beautiful once, Will thinks as he studies his family friend. He's seen the photos. But all that beauty has been chipped away.

At 50, Kristen's face shows all the wear and tear from the bottle, drugs, and too many conquests.

Will purposely leaves the door open, standing just barely inside. The sounds of the square, the smell of a restaurant, keeps him grounded.

"What the hell do you want?"

"To see you, silly." Kristen lets out a shrill laugh that grates at Will's nerves like nails on a chalkboard. "Like you even have to ask. I've been wanting to see you, honey. I told myself, Will's busy, but we need to have just a little time together. So I hopped in a cab, and here I am. Have a seat, and tell me everything that's going on with you."

Disgust rolls over him, and Will holds onto it. He'll take disgust over the despair threatening to burt out from underneath it. "I have to go to work."

"Oh come on, can't you take some time for your own stepmom? The pub's yours anyway. I'm so proud of my stepson, all grown up and running the family business. Seem to be doing pretty well for yourself too."

Will catches her looking around the room, the calculating look in her eyes. It squeezes his chest, making his spine go stiff. "When I said the last time was the last time, I meant it. I'm not giving you money."

"What do you have to be so mean for?" Kristen's eyes widen, filling with tears. "Can't I just want to spend a few days with my little boy?"

"I'm not a little boy." Will says flatly. "Especially not yours."

"Be nice, honey. I just came all this way to see you again. I know I could've been a better stepmom to you, but I promise you I'm gonna make it all up to you."

Kristen jumps up, placing a hand on her chest. Her right pinky's fingernail is long and curvy.

Coke, Will suddenly realizes, not shocked or even remorseful. Now he knows she's doing coke on top of the bottle.

"I've made mistakes, I know I have." Kristen's voice is laced with apology, with remorse. "But you need to understand. I was so young when I married your father."

"You've already tried to pull that one on me before."

Kristen digs into her purse, pulling out a ripped tissue. "Why are you being so hard on me? Why are you trying to break my heart?"

"You don't have a heart. And you sure as hell are not my mom."

"I was there, wasn't I?" Sadness turns into anger, like the flip of a switch. Kristen raises her voice. "Years of being boring and exhausted and stuck in this damn down. Being in that house all by myself keeping house for you and your father."

"And you left me the second I turned 18. A real parent doesn't drop the kid the second they become an adult."

"I was young too!"

And it's that one sad fact that pushes Will to push all the doubt in his heart to the side. Until his heart had finally crystallized from all the hits.

"You haven't been young in a while. Neither have I. I'm not gonna stand here and argue about it with you. I have to work, and you need to leave."

"But honey." Panicked, Kristen shifts, back to being all teary eyed and choked up.

"You have to at least give me a chance to make it right. I'm getting a job. Can I work for you? That would be fun, wouldn't it? We'll have so much fun. We'll be like mother and son."

"No way in hell are you working for me, and definitely no way in hell are you staying with me. I already made that mistake years ago, and when I caught you having sex in here, you stole money from me and took off. I'm not doing that again."

"I was sick, but I'm clean now. I swear I am. You can't just kick me to the curb." She holds out her hands, hands up in a begging gesture. "I'm completely broke. Rob, he took everything I had and left."

Will can only assume Bob is the latest loser that Kristen chose to gravitate towards. "You're coked out of your mind right now. You realize I'm not blind or stupid, right?"

"No I'm not! I just took something because I was so nervous to show up here. I knew you'd be mad." Tears fall out, dribbling mascara down her cheeks. "You have to give me a chance to make it up to you, Will. I'm a changed woman."

Will pulls out his wallet, counting out a hundred dollars. "Here." He slams it into Kristen's hand. "Take this, get the hell out of here, and get as far as humanly possible away from here. And don't even think about trying to come back here. You're not welcome here anymore."

"You can't treat me like this, honey. You can't be this mean."

"I absolutely can." Will picks up the bag, carrying it over to the door and setting it outside. "It's in the DiMera blood. Take the hundred, because you're not getting another penny out of me. Now get the fuck out or I swear to God, I'll throw you out myself."

Kristen marches to the door, the money having already vanished into her purse. But she stops, giving Will one last hard look. "I never wanted to be your mom."

"The feeling's mutual. I never wanted you to be my mom either." Will slams the door in his stepmom's face, then flips the locks, sitting down on the floor.

And proceeds to cry in the privacy of his own apartment.

Will's sure he's all cried out by the time he drives over to the DiMera mansion the same night. He'd almost canceled his dinner plans with Sonny, but that would mean Kristen's little visit was important enough to warrant it.

It would mean acknowledging the pain that had stabbed its way into his heart despite all the iron walls built around it.

He needs to think about other things, and that's never gonna happen if he stays at home wallowing. He'll just get through tonight, minute by minute, and by morning, Kristen will be gone.

Out of sight, out of mind, out of his life.


	39. I'll Be Waiting

The place looks different, Will thinks. Small changes that somehow make it more solid. It's good to see it like this, so be able to really look at it, and to know some things are able to change for the better. With the right hands behind the wheel.

Over the years, Will's gotten used to thinking the Dimera mansion as a kind of dreamy place, buried firmly in the past. More than that, he decides. By the past.

Now, with brand new unpainted boards checkered with peeling white paint, with some windows shining and othered covered in dust, it's definitely a work in progress.

Sonny's really putting life back into it.

Though the gardens are still a bit of a mess, the flowers are finally blooming. And he's put a huge clay flower pot of flowers on the veranda.

He definitely planted them himself, Will thinks, as he walks towards the door. Sonny's definitely the kind of guy that's not scared to get his hands dirty. Especially when it comes to things that he thinks are his.

Which makes Will wonder if Sonny considers him one of his works in progress. Maybe. But Will's not even sure whether he's amused or offended by that idea.

Will walks inside, figuring that when two people sleep together as often as they have, silly formalities like asking to be invited in aren't really an issue.

Will smells the flowers first, the strong scent bringing the garden inside. He's bought a gorgeous table, a couple of chairs, and, as Will can see with a smile, a rooster figurine for the main room.

Some would call it ridiculous, others dashing, Will supposes, but nobody can call the entrance to the mansion boring anymore.

"Sonny?" Will wanders in and out of the smoking room, taking note of the new additions. Will circles into the library, before he finds himself crossing over to the mantel, where the heavy candlesticks are resting.

Why are his hands shaking? Will wonders as he reaches out to touch them. Why do these old candlesticks look so oddly familiar?

They're not even that special, not really. Expensive, sure, but just a tad too flashy for his taste. Still...he lightly brushes his fingers down them. Somehow they look like they're supposed to be there, so much so he can almost imagine the slim white tapers that are supposed to be in them; he can smell the melting wax.

Shivering, Will steps back before walking back out of the room.

He keeps calling Sonny's name as he walks up the stairs. When he gets to the top, a hidden door in the wall opens. Both Will and Sonny have to halt their simultaneous screams.

With a gasp and a startled laugh, Will clutches his chest as he stares at Sonny. He has cobwebs stuck all over his hair, dirt smeared on his face and hands. The flashlight he's carrying wags back and forth.

"Jesus, next time just shoot me and get it over with."

"Only if you extend me the same courtesy." Sonny blows out a breath, dragging a hand through his hair, pulling out some cobwebs. "I think you just reduced my life expectancy by 5 years."

"I called out a few times, then gave up and decided to just hunt you down myself." Will looks past Sonny's shoulder. "What, did you find a hidden dungeon?"

"No, the servant's chambers. They're all over the place, so I thought I'd check them out. Really cool, but really messy." Sonny looks down at his disgusting hands. "Why don't you go grab yourself a drink? I'll just go get cleaned up?"

"I'm actually open to making one for both of us. What'll it be?"

"How about a beer?" But Sonny's looking at Will's face now that Sonny's recovered from the shock. "What's wrong?"

"Besides you scaring the crap out of me? Not a thing."

"Something's bothering you. I can tell."

Will goes for a knowing smile. "Maybe I'm just upset cause I came all the way here, and you didn't even kiss me hello."

"Or you don't trust me enough to tell me the real reason, and still think sex is all I want." Sonny takes one knuckle to lift Will's chin, looks him right in the eyes until Will's start to burn. "In which case, you'd be wrong. I love you."

Sonny waits for a beat, then nods when Will doesn't say anything. "I'll be down in a minute."

Will starts walking down the stairs, before stopping himself, and speaks without turning back around.

"I don't think all you want is sex, Sonny. But that doesn't mean I have the first clue what it is you do want."

"William, you're the only thing I've ever wanted my whole life."

Sonny doesn't push Will to tell him more. If Will needs to pretend he's not bothered or twitchy, he'll give the guy space. They take a walk through the gardens as the sun starts to set.

"This place. All this time, people coming and going. Mostly going. And you're still here, having accomplished more in a few short months than anyone's ever been able to do since before I was aware this place existed."

Will turns to study the mansion. It definitely still needs work. Wood, paint, new shutters. But it doesn't look so...dead, Will realizes. This place was never just abandoned, it had been dead until Sonny had revived it.

"You're bringing it back from the dead. This is so much more than a money pit or a labor of love."

"Can you see yourself living here?"

Will's eyes immediately dart to Sonny's, simultaneously startled and panicked. But Sonny's remain calm and collected. "I have my own apartment."

"Not what I asked. I asked if you can. If you can imagine being comfortable here, or if the idea of sharing it with...ghosts, memories, or whatever it is would be too much for you."

"If it was too much for me, I would've declined your dinner invitation. Which reminds me. What's on the menu?"

"I'm gonna try grilled fish." Sonny pulls the lapel watch out. "In just a little bit." Sonny says, after he checks the time.

Will's immediately entranced by the watch he's holding. His stomach flutters like it did when he touched the candlesticks.

"Where did you get that?"

"Found it in an antique shop today." It's Will's tone that tips Sonny off, and intrigued by it, he holds it out. "Recognize it?"

"Don't know a lot of doctors that wear that kind of watch anymore."

"I knew it belonged to me the second I saw it. I think it was you that bought it for me." Sonny says, making Will jerk his head up. "A very long time ago." He holds up the clip so Will can see the inscription.

"It's Tom's." Will's first instinct is to dig his fingernails into his hands, he makes himself reach out and touch the engraving. "Weird. Definitely weird, Sonny. You think I was Alice?"

"Yeah, I do."

Will shakes his head. "You don't think that's too easy, and just maybe a little egocentric?"

"Murder, anguish, suicide, and decades of lost souls?" Sonny shrugs, slipping it back into his pocket. "Nothing easy about it, from the sound of it. But Will, I so think love is boundless, willing to hold out until it's ready to try again."

"Damnit, you're so...intriguing. And it's really starting to get old how I'm the sensible one in this relationship. I like being with you, Sonny."

Will messes with the key around his neck as he speaks. A nervous habit, Sonny thinks, one he's probably not aware of.

"I like having you here. I think you're hot. And I like having sex with you. That's all I'm able to let you have right now."

Sonny pulls Will into his arms, "And I'll gladly take it."


	40. Bewitched

Will rolls over, sliding from one pillow to the other. He can hear singing-- a guy's voice, singing dreamily. Sighing, Will runs a hand over the sheets.

Sonny may not be in bed with him, but the warmth he left behind is.

Opening his eyes, Will blinks against the sunlight. Will honestly hadn't planned to stay the night. But with Sonny, his plans tend to change to fit Sonny's wants and needs. More than that, his plans get completely turned around so that Sonny's wants and needs become his own as well.

Smart guy, Will muses, yawning as he buries his face into the pillow. Sonny never seems to push, never makes any unreasonable demands. And gets his way anyway.

And God help him, Will adores him for it.

Even now, despite wishing they were in his own bed, Will's glad he stayed the night here. His mood had been terrible, on top of petulant, when he'd first shown up. Seeing Kristen DiMera tended to have that effect on him. For a few blissful hours, he'd actually been able to forget about it, and just be happy with Sonny.

It's enough--has to be, for both their sakes, for as long as whatever this thing between them is going to last. Seeing Kristen was a very clear reminder of all the promises Wil had made to himself years ago.

To succeed on nobody's terms but his own. To live by his own rules, and not be swayed. And to never, ever, place his life, hopes and dreams, or any of his wants and needs in someone else's hands.

Sonny will be moving on from him soon enough. Everyone does. But Will's more emotionally invested this time, and knows he'll need to make a real effort if they're going to stay friends.

So really, he needs to be ridiculously careful to not fall for Sonny. Careful to not break Sonny's heart while he's still convinced he's in love with him.

Will's brow creases, once he realizes he's actually hearing singing. From the shower, Will realizes, Sonny's voice over the running water.

"A simpering, whimpering child again, bewitched, bothered and bewildered, am I."

Interesting song choice for someone to sing in the shower, Will thinks, and finds himself singing right along with him, mentally. When love came and told me I shouldn't sleep.

Confused--where the hell did those lyrics come from--Will gets up from the bed and goes towards the bathroom door. He knows the song, but more than that, he knows the words. The story behind it melding with the melody.

Will's heart is suddenly pounding, feeling his pulse jump straight to his throat.

Dancing in the moonlight with the mansion a beacon against the night. A girl in rayon, and a man in formal wear. The smell of roses. Heavy but still sweet.

The air is smothered in flowers, so much so it's hard to breathe. It almost makes one dizzy as you spin through the garden, along with the path with the music.

Dizzy from dancing. Dizzy from falling head over heels in love.

Will sways, throwing out an arm to brace himself against the door, right before it opens on him, causing steam to come flooding out as he falls forward.

"Will!" Sonny catches him, grabbing him before he faceplants. Still soaking wet from his shower, hair dripping all over Will's face, he assists Will back to bed.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just...lost my balance for a minute there."

"Will, you look like you've seen a ghost." Sonny brushes Will's hair with his fingers, rubbing Wil's freezing hands with his own. "What the hell happened?"

"Nothing." Stuck between confused and embarrassed, Will pushes him back so he can sit up. "Just a headrush from standing up too quick. Lost my balance and when I reached for the door, you opened it right at the same time. I'm okay, Sonny. Just a little early for me to be up and about."

"I'm gonna grab you some water."

"Sonny, please. You don't need to fuss over me. Horton's don't swoon." Will runs a finger over Sonny's chin. It's all starting to fade away; the song, the scent of roses, the excitement of falling in love. "Though your adorable face definitely takes my breath away. Did you use up all the hot water?"

"Most likely." Sonny eases over to sit next to Will. "I still need to replace the water heater. Give it about half an hour, you'll have enough for your own shower."

"Hmm. What could I possibly do for a whole half hour?" Laughing, Will pulls Sonny back into bed.


	41. The Book of Love

Now that, Will decides, is a much better way to start your morning. Will hovers over his first cup of coffee at the small table, Sonny's set up on the veranda outside his bedroom. Since he has limited choices for food, Will settles for cereal, watching Sonny go to town on an overflowing bowl of his own.

"Why don't you just eat a candy bar for breakfast while you're at it?"

"Cause I don't have any."

Sonny smiles at Will, and goddamnit, he really does take Will's breath away.

"That's a really nice spot for you." Will tells him. "Really nice morning reflection spot."

"It's gonna look so much better once I replace the boards and paint them over. Need some more stuff too." Sonny looks around. "Flower pots, you know, and other things."

Will takes another bite of cereal. "You're just the boy next door, aren't you?"

"Looking like it." And just the idea itself makes Sonny so happy. "Who knew?"

"So what does the boy next door have on the agenda?"

"I want to finish the work on the stairs. If the weather holds out over the weekend, I'll have a promising start on the front of the house. I have guys coming in to work on the other bathrooms. More shopping. Wanna come with?"

"I don't think I've met a guy as crazy for shopping as you." The idea of treasure hunting with Sonny is so unbelievably tempting, as is the thought of getting to be a part of picking out pieces for the mansion.

It would also mean taking another step away from being just two people sleeping together, and towards being a real couple.

So Will shakes his head, refusing to let himself give in. "Unless we're shopping for groceries or clothes, you can count me out."

"I could probably squeeze that in somewhere between drawer handles and hardware. Actually...wait here a sec."

Sonny gets up and heads back inside, while Will stretches back, cupping his mug with both of his hands, looking out at the gardens and the pond.

Will had succeeded in distracting him, Will thinks. Either that or he's doing a really good job at pretending to be distracted from what happened. He'd practically fainted, which would definitely be a first.

There's something in the house, Will muses, that's affecting him, just like it is Sonny. One side keeping him here, the other wanting him to go away, but he's determined to stay exactly where he is.

Is it possible Sonny was right all along? Is it really that easy? Was Sonny Tom in a past life, and himself his condemned Alice?

Had it really been them who had danced in the moonlight to that song?

If that's true, what does that mean for them now, in the present?

Will's face is one of worry when Sonny finally returns. And puts a small box on the table next to his cereal bowl.

"Sonny, come on. If you keep buying me gifts, what are you gonna do when we get to my birthday?"

"I'm sure I'll think of something."

"I already know there's no way you're gonna top the salt and pepper shakers, but…" Will opens the box, expecting to see something silly like an antique bolo tie, or maybe some cufflinks. And finds himself staring down at the encrusted anchor pin.

"It just called out to me."

"Jesus you-you can't just give me something like this." For the first time since Sonny's know him, Will stutters. "You can't just--just give me a pin like this. Those are real diamonds. Did you really think I wouldn't be able to tell?"

"Not at all." That's interesting, Sonny thinks, how Will goes straight from flustered to angry at being given diamonds. "I just thought it would look good on you."

"I don't care how loaded you are." Will snaps the lid back down on the sparkle of diamonds. "I don't care how much money you have stashed in bank accounts and your investments. Please don't buy me expensive jewelry." Here, Will stands up before continuing to shout, "If I want diamonds, then I'll go and get them myself. I'm not a gold digger."

"Well, looks like I hit the jackpot." Sonny tips back his chair to look at the angerin Will's eyes. "So you'd be fine if they were zirconium? I just want to know the ground rules. If I see something I want to buy for you, the price limit has to be what, under a hundred? Hundred fifty? I need a ballpark."

"I don't need you to buy me stuff."

"Will, if you needed me to buy you things, I'd do what you said and buy groceries. It was nice, and it made me think of you." Sonny picks up the box, running his free hand around it. "No ulterior motives involved."

"Something that costs as much as a decent secondhand car always has ulterior motives."

"Wrong again. Money has nothing to do with it. I just happen to have a lot of it, so that's on you to deal with. If you don't want it, that's fine." Sonny shrugs, picking up his coffee. "I'll just give it to someone else."

Will's eyes narrow. "Oh you will, will you?"

"You clearly have some sort of moral objection to it, but why does that mean I have to let it go to waste?"

"You're trying to make me sound ridiculous."

"No, you're acting ridiculous. All I'm doing is playing my role in your little soap opera. I'd love for you to have it, but not if you think it's just a severance check. That's insulting to both of us, Will." Sonny says when Will's mouth drops open. "Thinking I'm just paying you for sex tells me you think that's something I'm willing to do. It's just a few tiny rocks."

"But they're beautiful." Damnnit damnit, and damnit again! Why does this man insist on throwing him off his axis?

And isn't it just like Sonny, exactly like him, to just sit there as he calmly watches Will flip out right in front of him?

Will takes a deep breath while Sonny looks at him, simultaneously patient and amused. "I was rude, and I completely overreacted. I'm just not used to guys giving me diamonds and silver over paper bowls of cereal."

"Okay. Then how about I wait to give them over a nice steak dinner?"

Will laughs weakly, dragging a hand through his hair. "You are officially too good for me."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sonny demands.

But Will just shakes his head, picking up the box again. He studies the pin against the velvet it's sitting on for a long moment, before taking it out and pinning it to his collar.

"How's it look?"

"Perfect."

Will leans down, kissing him. "Thank you. It just scared me, that's all, but I'm learning to get over it pretty damn fast."

"Good."

I'm gonna have to stay in this flannel so I can show it off. Goddamnit." Will says as he runs for the door. "I gotta see for myself."

Will stops in front of the mirror, holding out his shirt's collar with one hand. "It's brilliant. I've neer had anything so beautiful in my life. You're a wonderful man, Sonny. A stubborn, insane, wonderful man."

"When we get married," Sonny says from the doorway, "I'm gonna shower you with diamonds at breakfast once a month."

"Take that back."

"Fine, but I'm still keeping it in mind."

"I have to get going. Want to stop and see my grandma before heading back."

"Can you give me a lift too? I got something for her too."

Will eyes, as they track Sonny's in the mirror, are softeharted, and maybe just a little exasperated. "You bought her another gift?"

"Don't you dare have a go at me." Sonny warns as he steps back out to gather up the bowls.

"Why do you insist on buying gifts for everyone, Sonny?"

Will knows him so well by now, and the slightest shift in Sonny's shoulders tells him he's annoyed and clearly uncomfortable. So Will decies to soften it by kissing him on the cheek.

"I have money." Sonny says. "And I like having stuff. You trade money for goods, which is loads more fun than having a bunch of metal and paper sitting in your wallet."

"I don't know about that. I like the metal and paper. But…" Will touches the pin on his shirt. "I could grow to love these pretty little chips. Go and grab whatever it is you bought for my grandma Marlena. It'll gonna make her day just because it's from you."

"You really think so?"

"She's got a soft spot for you."

"I love that." Sonny turns, wrapping his arms around Will's waist. "What about you? You have a soft spot for me too?"

A warmth spreads down Will's spine, almost making him sigh. "I'm finding it harder and harder not to."

"Good." Sonny gives Will a light peck on the lips, before pulling away. "I love that even more."


	42. After the Ball

Sonny carries a small gift bag out to Will's car. It strikes Will as both odd and sweet that he would think to do something. Not just buying a gift, something easily affordable, but the thing he puts the gift in. A nice gift bag or a bow, ribbons or wrapping paper, all the stuff most guys--or the guys he's known--wouldn't even think to bother with.

Any guy Will knows would call Sonny Kiriakis a keeper. And he wants to be with him.

"I want to ask you a question." Will starts as he starts up the car.

"Is it a yes or no, or multiple choice?"

"More of an essay question, actually."

Sonny settles back against the seat, stretching his legs the best he can as Will pulls out of the driveway. Sonny's always been good at essay questions. "Shoot,"

"How is it with all those strapping gay men in Chicago, and all the respectable guys here in Salem, I'm the one you want to be with?"

"There isn't a single one of them that made me feel so at ease, and nervous at the same time. But you still do. Not one of them could I ever see us together in ten, even twenty years, and I'm still reaching for his hand. But you do, Will. And there's nothing I want more than to hold onto you."

WIll doesn't dare look at him, because he can't, as everything inside him feels like it's filling up, knowing if he does, all it would take is one look and he'd spill his guts. Warmth and sweetness and utter defeat.

"That's a pretty good answer." Will finally manages to say.

"It's the truth." Sonny takes one of Will's clenched hands off the wheel, kissing it. "The honest to God truth."

"I'm pretty sure it is, but I have no idea what to do about it, Sonny. You're the only guy I've been with that I've ever had to worry about what my next move is. My feelings for you run so deep, and I wish they didn't."

"Here's an idea. Let's just elope to Vegas, then you don't have to worry about anything at all."

"And the Chicago Kiriakises would be just tickled to find out you eloped in Vegas with Sami Brady's son, owner of the Brady Pub. They'd have a field day."

"Or just give them some juicy gossip for the next few years. My mom would like you." Sonny says, almost to himself. "And she's not easy to impress. She'd like how you're your own person and don't let anyone walk all over you. Run your own bar, look after your grandma. She'd have a lot of respect for that, and she'd like that. She'd grow to love you because I do. My dad would fall at your feet."

Will laughs at that, loosening up some of the tightness still in his chest. "Are all the Kiriakis men slaves to love?"

"We're not. We just have ridiculously good taste."

Will pulls up in front of Marlena's apartment, before finally looking at Sonny. "Are any of them coming down for Chad and Abi's wedding?"

"Just my parents."

"We'll see what happens then, won't we?"

Will hops out first, walking right up to the door ahead of Sonny. "Grandma!" Will pushes the door open and walks in. "I brought you a booty call."

Marlena comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish rag. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and something baking follows her out. As always, she's wearing a pantsuit and sensible shoes. But there's a hardness around her eyes and mouth even Sonny can see immediately.

"I'm always up for a booty call." She replies as she kisses Will on the cheek.

"What's wrong?"

"Made some coffee cake fresh this morning." Marlena says, avoiding the question. She wraps an arm around Will's shoulders to move him along. "What's in the bag?"

"Just something I thought you'd like." In the kitchen, Sonny sets it on the table. "Smells amazing in here. Maybe I should start making coffee cake too."

Marlena smiles like he was hoping she would, but the tension in the air doesn't leave. "I just might be the one teaching you a few things. Making pastries is a good therapy to partake in. Takes your mind off of everything, lets you focus on other things."

She takes the small wrapped box out of the gift bag, turning it over in her hand, then pulls off the ribbon. "Will, if you don't grab him, I just may steal him away for myself." When she finally opens the box, her face goes soft.

The box is heavy in her hands. It's rectangular shaped and decorated with faded leaves. When she lifts the lid, it plays a tune.

"That song's been stuck in my head for weeks now." Sonny tells her. "So when I saw it, I just decided I should definitely buy it."

"'Bewitched'" Marlena tells him. "It's a really old song. Very sweet." Marlena looks at him. "Maybe you have a recently widowed uncle you could point in my direction."

"Well, there's Uncle Victor, but he's nothing worth looking at."

"If he's half as sweet as you, I'll take him."

"Well ain't this sweet?"

The second Will hears the voice, he goes stiff, like someone's holding a knife to his throat. Sonny can clearly see the look that passes between Will and his grandmother. Complete remorse on Marlena's end, utter shock on Will's.

Then they turn around.

Kristen DiMera slumps against the doorjamb, wearing something a size too tight. Her hair's a mess around her shoulders, face made up for the day with her eyes traced, lips slick.

"And just who are you supposed to be?" She lifts a hand, pushing her hair back as she gives a slow, seductive smile.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Will demands. "Why the fuck is she in this apartment?"

"I have just as much right to be here as you." Kristen fires back. "Some have more respect for family than others, clearly."

"I told you to get a cab and get the hell out."

"I don't take orders from my son-in-law." Kristen pushes herself off the doorjamb, walking over to the stove. "This coffee fresh, Marlena?"

"How could you?" Will demands of Marlena. "How could you let her come back?"

"Will." All Marlena can think to do is take his hand. "She's your father's wife."

"I'm your grandson." The bitterness pours out, leaving a nasty taste in Will's mouth. "So you're just going to let her come back, let her stay till she's bled you dry, and she and whatever loser she's banging with this time rob you blind? She's on coke right now. You really can't see it? And she's not getting it for free."

"I told you I'm off the stuff." Kristen slaps a mug off the counter.

"Liar. There's not one thing that comes out of your mouth that is true."

Kristen lunges for Will. Even as Will braces himself to take the hit, Sonny's already stepping in between them and grabbing her wrist.

"Try that again, I dare you." He says it very calmly, but the anger in his voice reverberates around the kitchen.

"You lay a hand on him, Kristen, even one finger, and I will not hesitate to throw you out."

Marlena walks over to the stove, pouring coffee for herself with shaking hands. "I mean it."

"He was raised better than to talk to family like that." Kristen's lips quiver slightly. "And in front of a stranger, no less."

"Sonny Kiriakis. I'm friends with Will and Marlena. I can grab the coffee, Marlena. Take a seat."

"This is a family matter, Sonny." Will keeps the fury in his eyes on his stepmother's face. He'll have all the time in the world to be embarrassed later. Right now it's just a minor inconvenience poking at the anger. "You should just go."

"Just a minute." Sonny pours the coffee, bringing it to Marlena. Crouching so they're at eye level. "I'm Greek." he tells her. "Both sides. We may not be the Irish, but we can hold our own. One phone call away, and I'm here."

Sonny squeezes her hand, then straightens up. "That goes for you too." He tells Will.

"I'm not staying either. I can drive you back." Will has to take a deep breath, bracing for the pain he knows his words are about to cause. "Grandma, I love you more than words can say. But as long as she has one foot in this apartment, I refuse to be. I'm sorry to hurt you like this, but I can't do this again. Call me once she's gone. And you," Will turns to Kristen. "You hurt her, you steal one penny from her or bring any of the trash you like to screw into this apartment, I will end you. I swear on my Grandma Caroline's grave I will. It doesn't matter where you go or where you try to hide, I'll skin you alive."

"Will!" Kristen walks down the hallway outside the apartment as Will walks away. "I've changed! I just want to make it up to you! Give me a chance--."

Now that he's outside, Will whips around. "You blew your last chance with me a long time ago. Stay the hell away from me. Stay the hell away from the pub. You're nothing to me, do you understand me?"

WIll slams the car door, turning on the engine, then speeds off, leaving a cloud of smoke that covers both Kristen and the apartment he's lived in on and off his whole life.

"Well wasn't that just a barrel of laughs?" Will steps on the gas. "I can just see it now, just how well your family and Kristen DiMera would get along. Slut, junkie, thief, and a liar."

"You can't blame Marlena for this, Will."

"I don't blame her. I really don't." Tears start to form a lump in Will's throat, and he can feel the burn. "But I refuse to have anything to do with it. I can't." He slams on the brakes in front of the mansion. "I have to go." But he lowers his head on the wheel. "Go on, leave. Go away."

"No, I'm not leaving without you, Will." Others would've already, Sonny suddenly understands. And that's the root of all this man's hurt. "You wanna keep talking about it here, or are we going inside?"

"I'm not talking about it at all."

"Yes you are. Pick the place."

"You already know everything there is to know. My stepmom's a slut and a junkie. When she doesn't have enough to pay for whatever fix she's craving, she steals it. She'd lie before she even knew your name."

"She doesn't live here."

"I don't know, or care, where she lives. Nowhere permanent. She showed up at my apartment yesterday. Coked out of her mind, spouting bullshit and her whole spiel about turning over a new leaf and letting bygones be bygones. She honestly thought I'd let her stay the night. Never again." Will says, leaning back against the car seat. "I gave her a hundred for cab fare. I was an idiot to think that was it. Most likely it all went up her nose."

"Let's walk."

"You can't just walk this off or kiss it away, Sonny. I have to get back."

"You're not going back to the square when you're this worked up. We're taking a walk."

Making sure Will doesn't drive off when Sonny gets out, Sonny takes the keys and puts them in his pocket. Then he climbs out, walking around the car. Opening Will's door, Sonny holds out a hand.

Will doesn't have any energy left to argue. But instead of taking Sonny's hand, he slides out of the car and digs his hands into his pockets.

They'll walk, they'll talk, and then it'll all be over.


	43. Love is the Key

Will assumes Sonny's thinking the gardens--the new flowers and the heady scents--will help relax him. He'd want to offer comfort. That's just who he is. More than that, he's want to know the truth so he could help fix it.

When it comes to Kristen DiMera, there's nothing to fix.

"Families can suck, huh?"

Will whips his gaze to Sonny's--hard and angry, damp. "She's not family."

"I understand. But it's still a family matter. We always have something going on in my family. Probably because we're so big."

"First world problems are not a family matter."

Sonny seriously debates on whether or not to let that comment slide. Will is, after all, exposed and hurting. But he can't bring himself to stomach it.

"You think just because my family has money, that magically makes all our problems go away? Makes all the hurt less so, buries bad history? That's pretty superficial of you, Will."

"I'm a superficial guy. Comes with the territory."

"That's a load of crap, but I'm willing to give you a pass on that one because you almost got slapped in the face. Money didn't do much when my aunt Maggie got into a car accident while she was driving drunk, almost killing my mom. It sure as hell didn't help when someone filed a fake sexual harassment lawsuit against me when I was CEO of Titan Industries. Life doesn't discriminate based on the size of your bank account."

Will stops, forcing himself to calm down. "I'm sorry. Kristen knows how to put me in the worst mood, not good for company."

"But I'm not company." Before Will can deflect, Sonny grabs his face in his hands. "I love you."

"Sonny, stop."

"I will never stop."

"I'm not good enough for you. I'm not good enough for anyone, and I don't want to be."

"That's what the key is for, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Sonny reaches down, lifting the key from where it hangs. "It wasn't some guy that broke your heart. It was Kristen. Now you want to lock it all away, shut it down so you won't even consider love when it's being given freely. Won't let yourself reciprocate. It's so much easier. If you're not in love, it doesn't matter if they leave first. Which makes you spineless."

"So what?" Will smacks his hand away. "It's still my life. I live it exactly how I want to, and it suits me just fine. You're the hopeless romantic, Sonny. Under all that business sense, that fancy degree, you're an idealistic fool. I don't put stock in ideals. What we are tight now, that's what matters now. One day you're going to wake up in your big, fancy mansion in the middle of a small town, wondering how you could've been so stupid. And you'll leave, running straight back to Chicago, back to your position at Titan Industries as CEO, marry some classy guy named Evan, and have beautiful children together."

"What about the two weiner dogs?" Sonny says mildly.

"Oh." Will throws up his hands. "Shit."

"So we're in agreement. First the only guy named Evan I know killed the mom of his biological son. He definitely creeps me out. Second, more importantly, what I'm going to do, Will, is live in this big, fancy mansion with you. I'm going to raise a family with you, right here. Weiner dogs or not."

"You can say it as many times as you want, but that doesn't make it truer than before."

Now Sonny's smiling, a big wide open smile. "You wanna bet?"

There's something about Sonny when Sonny gets like this, Will suddenly understands. Something powerful and and just a little terrifying when he wears that friendliness over the stubbornness at the very heart of him.

"I'm going to work. Just leave me the hell alone for a little while, understand? I'm way too pissed off to deal with you right now."

Sonny lets Will leave.

It's more than enough for Will to know being pissed off at Sonny was enough to stop the tears in his eyes dead in their tracks.


	44. A Little Place Called Trust

Chicago, 1941

_Santo is drunk, exactly how he likes it. He has a half naked slut on top of him, one of her breasts in his hand. Someone plays music somewhere, not that he cares, but it mixes very well in his head with wild laughter. _

_Smoke clogs the air, making him crave tobacco. But he doesn't really care enough to track down a cigar, or take the slut upstairs. _

_Even knowing he's broke--again--doesn't worry him. He' a regular at this brothel, and always manages, eventually, to scrape together enough money to fit the bill. He has good credit, for the time being. _

_He picked this slut because she's a redhead, very busty, and dumber than dirt. He'll tell himself later, after he's fucked her brains out, that he didn't see Alice's face starting back at him. _

_No such luck._

_He takes another pull of his drink, then pinches the slut's nipple. She squeals, playfully slapping his hand away. He's still smiling when Tom walks in. _

_"My beloved brother." Slurred speech or not, they're still bitter on his tongue. Santo takes a bigger pull, as he watches Tom shake his head at the brunette that sits next to him._

_He looks, Santo thinks, so pale and pure and perfect in the haze of the smoke, against the gaudy colors, through the noise._

_He wonders if Cain hated Abel as much as he hates himself right now._

_He waits, jiggling the redhead on his knee, squeezing her breast as Tom looks around the place. When their eyes meet, there's a definite clash. Santo can almost swear he hears it clear as a bell inside his head. The sound of swords striking in battle. _

_"What do we have here?" he says as Tom approaches. "Are you finally accepting you're just as corrupt as the rest of us. My brother here needs a drink! A drink and a woman for the gentleman!" he calls out. "Though I highly doubt he'll take advantage of either." _

"_You're an embarrassment to yourself and our family, Santo. I was sent here to take you home." _

_"I'm not embarrassed to pay for a slut." Santo sets down his glass, running a hand up the redhead's thigh. "Now if I was married to one, that would be a whole different story. But you beat me to the punch, o'brother mine, just like you did with everything else." _

_Tom's face pales. "Do not talk about her in this place." _

_"My stepbrother married a whore from Salem." Santo says conversationally, jerking the redhead back when she tries to crawl off of him. He can feel her heart pounding under his hand, as the heat between him and Tom instills fear. _

_And her fear excites him like none of the other things she'd promised him had been able to do. _

_"Tom, pride of the Hortons, brought a slut into our home, and now he's moaning and groaning because she dumped his sorry ass for someone else, and left him with her bastard son." _

_He has to believe it's true. Over the winter, he'd drowned himself in oceans of booze, the look in her eyes as she stared back at him, the way her body had splashed into the river. _

_He has believe it, or lose his mind altogether. _

_"Get up." Tom orders the redhead. "Go." _

_"I like her exactly where she is." Santo's hands clamp down around her arms as she struggles._

_Neither of them notice the room go quiet, as the music dies down and the laughter abruptly stops. Tom reaches down, dragging the redhead off of Santo's lap. She takes off like a dart even as Tom pulls Santo off the chair. _

_"Boys." The madam moves forward. Behind him is an enormous man in an official looking suit. "We don't want any trouble here. Mr. DiMera." Her voice is patronizing, hand sliding over his cheek. "Go with your brother, sweetheart. Family matters have no place here." _

_"Of course. My sincerest apologies." Santo takes her hand, kissing it. Then, he turns and lunges at Tom. _

_The table and lamp they land on breaks. While people around them try to get away, women screaming, they roll, fists flying, snapping like rabid dogs as years of resentment and violence comes out from the both of them._

_The bouncer walks over to them, pulling Santo up by his neck. He quickly marches him to the door, shoving him through. Tom's barely on his hands and knees when he suddenly finds himself being lifted off the ground. _

_Cursing and screaming follow him out the door. Anger smothered by humiliation. Tom shakes his head of it, getting back on his feet. _

_He looks down at his stepbrother, a very opaque reflection of himself, and with it comes a different shame. "Is this what it's come to?" he says tiredly. "Fighting in whorehouses, waking up in the gutters? I want to bury the hatchet, Santo. Heaven knows I can't do that anywhere else." _

_Tom holds out a hand to help Santo to his feet, an olive branch. _

_But Santo's shame is a whole different species. And it's rotten. _

_He won't remember pulling the knife out. Blinded by the liquor, his anger, all on top of his guilt. Nor will he remember jumping to his feet, lunging again._

_He feels the knife cut through his brother's flesh with a crazy thrill. And his lips peel back, eyes wild at the first scent of blood._

_They struggle, Tom through pain and shock, Santo through the rotten haze, with the knife's hilt slippery in their hands. _

_And the blinding horror paralyzes him as Santo's eyes widen when the fatal blow is turned on him, into him. _

_"My God." Santo murmurs, staring down at the knife in his chest. "You just killed your own brother."_


	45. Easier Lying

DiMera Mansion, 2019

The heat pumps in from the south, and it seems to Sonny even the air is sweating. Mornings and nights, when it's just barely tolerable, he works outside. In the afternoon, he stays in the colder areas of the house.

It's not that efficient, dragging tools in and out, but he's slowly making progress. That's the endgame here.

He doesn't call Will--figuring he needs to calm down some. But he thinks about him all the time.

Sonny thinks about Will when he's nailing boards, when he's choosing paint color, when he's installing the fans.

He thinks about Will the second he wakes up, in the middle of the night, only to find himself curled up by the edge of the pond, Tom's lapel watch clutched in his hand, face covered in tears.

He tries to not think about the sleepwalking in the daylight. But he can't not think about Will.

One more day, he orders himself as he wipes the sweat off is face. Then he's going to the square, and banging on his door. If Sonny has to back Will into a corner and force him to talk, that's what he's going to do.

Chad's wedding is coming up quickly. Which means, not only does he get to watch his best friend get married, but...his parents are flying in.

He's so unbelievably grateful they turned down his offer to let them stay with him. Everyone will be so much happier with them in the safe cocoon of a hotel suite.

Regardless, he's determined to finish the verandas, as well as one of the spare bedrooms. That way the lace looks even more impressive when they pull into the driveway, and he can prove he had the room offered.

His mom would check, most definitely. That's a given.

Sonny backs down the ladder, grabbing the cooler, gulping down cold water. Then splashes the rest over his head. Feeling refreshed, he walks across the lawn, then turns back to look.

Dripping wet, almost steaming, he feels a smile spread across his face.

"Not bad." He says out loud. "Not bad for a spoiled little rich boy."

He's finished the staircases. The sweep curves up opposite sides of one of the second floor verandas. Their elegance negate all the nicks, cuts, scrapes, and hours of back breaking labor.

They're going to be, Sonny realizes, his pride and joy.

All he has to do now is bribe the painters to work in this heat. Or pray the weather decides to chill.

Either way, he's not waiting until he finishes the back of the house. He wants the front painted, wanting to stand like he is now, seeing it shine in pure white.

To amuse himself, Sonny strides back, walking slowly up the stairs, crossing over and walking slowly down the other one. It gives him such a rush, he does it again.

Then he digs through his toolbox for his phone, and calls Will.

He has to share this excitement with him. Who cares if he's a day early?

The phone in Will's apartment rings when he glances over and sees Kristen DiMera crossing the front lawn. He hangs up, getting to his feet, putting the phone back in his toolbox.

"Good god, the heat's melting."

She beams at him, batting her eyelashes as she waves a hand in front of her face. He notes the jewelry she's wearing belongs to Marlena.

"And it's hardly noon. Look at you." She purrs.

She saunters right over to him, trailing a fingertip down his bare chest. "You're soaked."

"Non-shower shower." On instinct, he steps back so her finger isn't touching him. "How can I help you, Ms. DiMera?"

"Start by calling me Kristen. After all, you're good friends with Marlena--my boy too, aren't you?"

She wanders away some, eyes widening as she looks at the house. "I can't believe what you've done with this dump. You're pretty clever, aren't you, Sonny?" She flirts. "I can call you Sonny, can't I?"

"Sure. But cleverness isn't what got all this done." Sonny says. "Just time and effort."

And money, she thinks. A lot of money. "What're you being so modest for? What you're doing here is nothing short of a miracle. Would it be too out of your way to show me the inside? And I'd love a cold drink. Just making the walk over here has me parched."

No way in hell does Sonny want her in his house. More than disgust, there's this primal dread. But whatever else she is, she's Will's stepmother, and his own mother had done nothing if not raised him to be a gentleman.

"Sure. I have some lemonade."

"Can't think of anything better."


	46. Come and Get It

Kristen follows him to the door, pleased when he opens it for her, stepping back for her to go in first. She lets her body brush up against his, only slightly suggesting, then walks into the sitting room, letting out a gasp.

Her shock doesn't even have to be fake, nor her wonder as she gazes around the grand room. She'd been in here before. Chad and Sonny weren't the first ones to get drunk and break into the DiMera mansion.

Despite her namesake, she'd never liked it much. The whole place creeped her out, with the shadows and dust, cobwebs and fading glamor.

But now it's full of light and polish. Shiny floors and walls. She doesn't really care for the old furniture, not for appearances, anyway. But she has no doubt they all cost a pretty penny.

Old money buys and keeps old stuff. A concept that baffles her when there's so many new and shiny things.

"My god, hon, this is a masterpiece. Just a complete masterpiece." she repeats, wandering into the smoking room.

She may be a city girl at heart, where all the action is, but she can see how a woman can live like a princess in a place like this. And bring in all the action, at her every beck and call.

"Did I seriously just say you're clever? Forget that, you're a straight up genius. Everything's so beautiful and fresh." She turns back to him. "You must be so proud."

"It's getting there. Kitchen's this way. We can get you that lemonade."

"That would be wonderful, but there's no need to rush me." She slides a single hand onto his arm, clinging to him as she walks down the hall. "I'm just so fascinated by what you've done here. Marlena says you only started a few months ago."

"You'd be surprised by what you can get done if you stick to a schedule."

And since he's currently stuck with her, at least for now, he shoves away the need to throw her out again. Instead, as she goes for the library, making purring noises, he takes the opportunity to study her.

There's no Will in her. But, he supposes, there's still some similarities. Where Will's body is hot and lanky, Kristen's has clearly wasted away from time and abuse, to near emaciation.

Showing it off in revealing clothing only serves to make her look even more cheap and pathetic--like a well used marionette only freshly painted for just one final performance. He feels a pang of sympathy for a woman that looks for approval and attention by showing off a sexuality that's not even there.

She'd overdone it with the makeup, and the heat has not been kind. Her face looks almost jaundiced and fake under all the fake colors. Her hair's a mess, with gray roots poking out from underneath.

By the time he gets her into the kitchen, he's too busy feeling sorry for her to resent her.

"Take a seat." he tells her. "I'll grab the lemonade."

Of course, she mistakes the politeness in his voice for flirting.

"With this kitchen…" She slides into a chair. It's cold in here, so she tips back her head to let the air catch her throat--while also watching him. "Please tell me you're not a cook too. If that's the case, honey, I'm just gonna have to take Will out of the picture altogether and have you all to myself."

"Sorry." Just the mention of Will's name makes him go tense all over again. But he still has his back to her, so she can't see his face. "I am not a cook."

"Don't have anything stronger than lemonade, do you?"

"You want a beer instead?"

She'd rather have a scotch, but she just nods. "That'll do. Care to join me?"

"I'll stick with lemonade. I still have a lot of work to do."

"In this heat?" She stretches back, looking at him from under her eyelashes. "When it's like this, you just wanna soak in the tub, then lie down in a dark room with a fan cooling you off."

She accepts the beer bottle he hands her, and sips. "So what do you do to beat the heat?"

"Splash cold water over my head. How's Marlena?"

Kristen purses her lips. "She's just fine. Apartment's hotter than a sauna because she's baking. I've been trying to help as best I can, but things are still pretty tight. Sonny…"

She runs a finger down the sweat on her beer bottle, drinking some more. "I want to apologize for that little incident over there the other day. Will and I, we just don't see eye-to-eye on things. I guess I didn't make much of an effort to be his mom when I married his dad. But I'm still trying to make it up to him."

She widens her eyes until they sting and water simultaneously. "I'm different. I'm at a point in my life where I finally understand what's really important, and it's family. You understand that, right? You have family."

"Yes, I do."

"And now you're all the way here, you have to be missing them, and them you. Whatever fights you get into, you'd let them go to be there for one another. No matter what, right?'

"Yes."

She daintily dabs at her tears. "I just need Will to see that's all I'm after. He still doesn't trust me, and I don't blame him. I was hoping I could talk you into convincing him to give me another chance."

She slides her hand across the table, skimming it over the back of his. "I'd be very appreciative if you did. I'm so lonely. Women like me, we need a friend. Big strong guy in our corner. If I knew you were on my side, it would go a long way towards helping me."

"If I absolutely have to pick sides, I'm on Will's. And regardless, I'm not getting in the middle of family--if I was dumb enough to even try, it's not like Will would listen anyway."

"Guess you're not as close as I assumed."

"All that does is make an ass out of you and me." Sonny returns.

Kristen takes another swallow. "You're fucking him, aren't you?"

"That's none of your damn business."

"Why not?" Kristen runs the chilled bottle over her breasts, then gets up, laughing. "You shy? No need to be shy with me. We could be very good friends, you and I." She skirts the table, leaning in behind him. "Very, very good friends." she adds as she wraps her arms around him, nipping his ear.

"Ms. DiMera, you're giving me no choice but to awkwardly ask you to get the hell off of me."

"So you are shy." With a chuckle that blows a warm breath and beer over Sonny's cheek, she trails a hand towards his lap.

Sonny grabs her wrists tightly with one hand, forcing them back up. "You're just embarrassing yourself." He twists so he can get himself out of the chair, onto his feet so he can look right at her. "That has nothing to do with me. But the fact that you're trying to use me to get back at Will? That does."

Anger blushes her cheeks. "What, you think you're too good for me?"

"I don't think anything. Get the hell out, and we can pretend you were never here."

She wants to scream at him, to hit him. But she still has her pride. She's nowhere near drunk enough to not care about that, and the bump of coke she's snorted before coming over here had been pitiful.

Playing it up, she sinks into a chair, dropping her head on her folded arms and sobbing.

"I don't know what else to do. I'm all by myself, and I'm scared. I need help. I thought--I thought if you slept with me, you'd be more willing to help me. I don't know what else to do!"

She lifts her head, and the tears she'd managed to force out run right through her makeup. "I'm in really big trouble."

Sonny goes to the sink, turning the water on cold, before grabbing a glass. "What kind of trouble?"

"I owe money. That's why I left Topeka, and I'm scared they're gonna find me. Hurt me. Will, too. I don't want them to hurt my boy."


	47. Mother Knows Best

Sonny calmly sets the water down in front of Kristen. "How much money do you need?"

He sees it clearly, the quick satisfaction in her eyes before lowering them. "5 grand. But it's not my fault! It's really not. I put my trust in the wrong people. A guy," she says tiredly. "And he up and took off with the money and left me in debt. If I don't pay it back, they'll track me down and do something to me. And Marlena and Will."

Sonny sits back down, staring at her intently. "You're lying. You just want to squeeze 5 grand out of me so you can buy drugs and take off again. You think I'm so naive, but you don't know how wrong you are. If it wasn't for Will, I'd give you a few hundreds to make you go away. But you see, Kristen, Will is a part of it. He would hate it."

She splashes the water in Sonny's face, but he doesn't even blink. "Fuck you."

"I thought I made it abundantly clear that was never going to happen."

"Think you're so smart? Some bigshot just because you have money?" She gets to her feet. "Big, fancy, privileged family. I did my homework on you, Jackson Kiriakis. I want to ask you exactly what that big, fancy, privileged family's gonna think when they hear you're bumping uglies with a Horton?"

The use of the last name like that has Sonny's gut clenching, all the way in the back of his throat, in his head. Her face changes right in front of him, filling up, becoming older. Colder.

Adelaide.

"Get the hell out." He doesn't know, not for sure, if he's talking to the woman in front of him or the ghost. His hands shake as he grabs the edge of the table.

"All those business folk up there in Chicago, how are they gonna like it when they hear their precious son is hooking up with Sami Brady's son? No money or pedigree. Runs the family bar with a grandma that talks to crazy people. Gonna disown you right out of the family, hun. Leave you with nothing with this big white elephant of a mansion. Especially once I tell them you fucked his stepmom too."

Under different circumstances, he'd be laughing at the very idea of fucking a woman, much less Kristen DiMera. As it is, his legs are weak, but he somehow manages to stay upright. "Get the fuck out before I attack you."

"You'd never raise a hand to a lady. Don't think I don't know what kind of guy you are." High on coke and confidence, she tosses her hair back. "You wanna keep fucking my stepson, and you wanna keep your family in the dark, you're gonna write me a check. And you'll write it right now. And it's gonna be ten thousand, just for hurting my feelings."

"Your feelings aren't worth a tails up penny on the sidewalk, Kristen."

"They will be once I have a nice little chat with your mom."

"My mother is going to eat you alive." Sonny walks to the counter, yanking open a drawer and pulling out a yellow pad, writing a number on it. "Here's her number. Give her a call. Use my phone if you want, long as I'm listening the entire time. I would love to hear her rip you to worthless shreds."

"I need money!"

"It's not coming from me." Patience finally running out, he grabs her arm and pulls her towards the door. "I can do so much more to you than you can to me. That is a promise." he says, then slams the door in her face.

He has to sit down, at least till he can feel his legs under him again. He feels sick, physically sick. Something had happened when Kristen was ripping on Will. Her face had changed to one he's only seen in his dreams.

That face belongs to the mansion, or to the part slamming the doors, that wants him to go away.

Wants to hurt him.

There's no denying it now, he tells himself, that Will's stepmom wants to hurt him too.

He gets up, going towards the phone. The one good thing to come out of all this was it made him appreciate his own mother.

He dials a number, and feels refreshed at the familiarity of her voice.

"Hey, Mom."

"Sonny? What're you doing calling in the middle of the day? Is something wrong? You had an accident."

"No, I--."

"All those tools. You cut yourself."

"All my limbs are intact, as well as everything else. I just wanted you to know I love you."

There's a very long pause, then, "You have a brain tumor and have three months to live."

Now he's laughing, "Fine, you got me. I'm a dead man walking and wanted to call my family so I can get an awesome wake."

"Now how about you tell me the real reason you're calling, Sonny?"

"I wanted to tell you about the man I've fallen in love with and plan to spend the rest of my life with."

An even longer pause. "Are you serious?"

"Yes I am. You have a few minutes to spare?"

"I think I can move a few things around for this."

"Okay." Sonny walks over, picking up his lemonade. The ice has already melted, but he chugs it anyway. "His name's Will Horton, and he's handsome, intriguing, frustrating, stubborn and perfect. He's perfect, Mom."

"When do I get to meet him?"

"Chad's wedding. There's still one minor catch in the plan--besides the fact that he's not ready to say yes to my proposal."

"I'm sure you'll find a way around that. What's the catch?"

Sonny sits down and tells her everything about Kristen.

When he finally hangs up, he feels like a weight's been lifted.

On impulse, he goes upstairs to clean himself up and change.

Looks like he's gonna be confronting Will ahead of schedule.


	48. Best Laid Plans (Gone Wrong)

Sonny takes a detour to Chad's office on the way to the Brady Pub. The upcoming nuptials are approaching fast, and as best man, his duties include planning the bachelor party. He figures the synopsis is clear enough--booze and a strip club--but there's some more important details to figure out as well.

When reception buzzes through to Chad's office, he hears his best friend's frantic voice say, "Send him straight in."

The second he steps on the office, he understands why.

Abi, with tears streaking down her face, sits in one of the visitor's chairs with Chad crouching at her feet. Though Chad keeps wiping the tears away, keeps trying to comfort her, the look he gives Sonny is one of complete panic.

And because he's just that good a friend, Sonny doesn't turn tail and run. Instead he closes the door, crosses over and rubs Abi's shoulder.

"I thought I told you to let me handle telling Chad you're leaving him to be my beard."

Abi just looks up, then covers her face with her hands and outright sobs.

"Okay okay, bad joke." Sonny scrubs his sweaty palms over his jeans. "What's the matter?"

"It's the wedding venue." Chad starts, and Abi wails.

"We don't have one anymore." She snatches Chad's handkerchief, burying her face in it. "There...there was a fire, and the fire department came, and they...they...goddamnit, what are we gonna do?"

"Smoke and water damage." Chad explains to Sonny. "Worse than the actual fire damage. Won't be able to fix it in time."

"It's all my fault."

Mirroring Chad, Sonny crouches down. "Okay, now calmly explain why you started the fire."

That gets her to laugh--for a second. "I wanted the Salem Inn. It's so romantic and perfect. Chad said it would be easier just doing it in a church, but noooo, I just had to have it my way. And now look where we are. Less than three weeks away and we're...we're screwed, that's what we are."

"No we're not. We'll find somewhere else." Chad kisses the tip of her nose. "Worst case scenario, we'll just get married and have the party itself later. We'll have ourselves a real shindig, after our honeymoon."

"And where are we supposed to get married? City Hall?"

"We could get married anywhere and I wouldn't care." Now he kisses her hand. "I just want to get married."

She sniffs, sighing as she leans into him. "I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous and self centered. You're right. I shouldn't care where or how we get married."

"Of course you should." Sonny's statement has them both looking at him, Abi still with tears in her eyes, Chad with frustrated bafflement. "You can't let something like a fire ruin your plans. Use my place."

"What the hell do you mean use your place?" Chad demands.

"The DiMera mansion. It's definitely big enough. Still need to work on the ballroom, but I still have time. I have to bribe some painters, but I finished the entrance just this morning. Gardens are in incredible shape, kitchen's done, smoking room, library. Still a bunch of rough spots, but people aren't gonna care. They'll have the house, the grounds, and the ghosts. They'll be talking about your wedding for years."

"You really mean it?" Abi grabs Sonny's hands before Chad can get a word in.

"Of course I do. We can make it happen."

"Son." Chad starts, but Abi barrels right over him.

"Oh my god. I love you!" She throws her arms around Sonny's neck. "You are officially the most selfless man in the entire world. A saint." She says as she kisses him. "A true angel."

"You mind giving us some privacy?" Sonny says to Chad.

Laughing, Abi gets to her feet. "Jesus, I shouldn't let you do this. You'll have a bunch of strangers walking around your house, trampling all over your lawn. But I'm still gonna let you because I'm that desperate, and it's so perfect. I swear you don't have to worry about any extra work. I'm gonna take care of everything. I'm gonna spend the rest of my life paying you back for this."

"Name your firstborn after me, and we're in business."

Chad sits on the edge of his desk, shaking his head. "I said I'd marry you anywhere, anytime, and all he did was offer you a dilapidated mansion, and he gets the kiss."

"I already have you." But she turns and wraps her arms around Chad, resting a head on his shoulder. "I want it to be spectacular, Chad. I want it to be perfect. It means a lot to me."

"I know it does, and that means it means a lot to me too. We're gonna have quite the party, aren't we?"

"Yes we are." She squeezes him one last time, then completely changes her tune. The sad, crying woman has been replaced by an energetic puppy. "Am I allowed to go now?" She asks Sonny. "I gotta get my mom and brother, so we can go out and start figuring everything out."

"Go right ahead."

"Thank you." She kisses his cheek. "Thank you." The other one. "Thank you." Then right on his mouth with one big smackeroo.

"Chad, you come track me down once you can get a moment. Oh, and Sonny?" She's pulling out her cell phone as she walks towards the door.

"My color scheme is pink and green. You're okay with us painting the mansion those colors, right?"

Sonny's mouth drops open as she shuts the door behind her. "Please tell me she's joking."

"Most likely." Knowing her, as wella s her family, Chad blows out a breath. "You have no idea what you just walked into. You made my fiance happy, and I'm unbelievably grateful, but I need to tell you, the next few weeks are going to be ones of complete insanity."

"I just couldn't stand to see her cry like that. And besides, it just makes sense." Pink and green, he thinks. How much trouble could it be with simple colors like pink and green? "Anyway," he adds, rubbing a hand over his sinking heart. "I've gone through this whole thing before with my brothers."

"You haven't gone through this with Abi's mom before."

Sonny shifts his feet. "Is she scary?"

"Very."

"Lord, take me now."


	49. Ball and Biscuit

Good deeds tend to put him in a good mood. When Sonny walks into Brady's, he's ready for a cold one, along with a well deserved pat on the back. And Will.

He's behind the bar, pulling a draft and chatting with a regular. He watches his gaze waver, before finally landing on him. Stay on him as Sonny walks up, flipping up the pass-through.

Will still has time to slide the foaming beer across the bar to the customer's waiting hands, starting to turn before Sonny wraps him up in his arms and kisses him.

The scattering applause and whistles has Sonny smiling as he holds Will close. "I missed you."

Will rubs their tingling lips together. "I thought you had pretty good aim." He pats Sonny's cheek, giving him a quick, wicked smile. "Now slow down there speedy, I'm working."

"You need to ask someone to cover for you."

"I'm busy, Sonny. Go sit down, and I'll get you a beer."

Sonny just grabs Will's arm, elbowing the door open to the kitchen, "Someone cover for Will." he calls back, nodding towards the pass-through. "You mind?" he asks the man sipping the draft.

"No problem."

"Sonny." Will doesn't struggle, knowing how bad it would look. "I'm supposed to be running this place."

"And you're doing an incredible job. Thanks." Sonny adds when the man flips up the pass-through. "So it should be fine for half an hour." He nods as the guy rushes over and opens the door for him.

He leads Will outside. They get a few interesting looks as they walk down the sidewalk and turn into Will's courtyard.

"I don't like being ordered around."

"I'm not ordering you, I'm leading you. Can I have your spare key?" he asks as they climb the stairs. When Will doesn't say anything, Sonny shrugs. "Fine. We'll most likely get arrested for what we're going to do out here, but that doesn't scare me."

"Under the flower pot, first on the right."

"Good."

To Will's shock, Sonny maneuvers Will around so he can crouch down, all while keeping a firm grip on Will's arm while he grabs the key. Once again, he's underestimated Sonny's strength, and, Will has to admit, his reaction towards it.

"You've lost some weight." Sonny comments as he unlocks the door. "Good."

"Excuse me?" Will says in his best uptight tone.

"I thought it's because you're pining for me."

"Get a grip, dumbass."

"I do." Sonny says, reaching to squeeze his ass as he kicks the door shut.

"I just want you to know up front how flattered I am that you took the time out of your very busy day to come all the way into town to sneak in a quickie, but--."

"Awesome idea. Not my first item on the agena, but what's the point in waiting." Sonny relaxes his grip some as he leads them to the bedroom.

"Okay, Sonny, you're really starting to piss me off. You need to let me go and--."

Whatever else Will was going to say--along with the air in his lungs--disappears when Sonny pushes him onto the bed. Sonny can see his eyes glitter dangerously before he rubs a hand over his face. And that, Sonny thinks, is just perfect. He's in the mood for hard and fast, hit and sweaty.

"What the hell's going on with you? You just came marching into the pub like you own the place, and drag me off like a dead body. If you think all I am is a scratch to an itch whenever it strikes your fancy, you are sadly mistaken."

Sonny just smiles, pulling off a shoe and tossing it aside.

"Put that back on, or you're gonna be limping back out. Either way, get the hell out."

Sonny pulls off the other shoe, then his shirt. Will's response to that is to scramble to his knees and spit out something unintelligible so quickly, he can only catch every other word.

"Sorry." Sonny says in a mild tone as he unbuttons his jeans. "That's a little too fast for me. Did you tell me to go to hell, or that I should go to the ball?"

Sonny's ready for Will when Will leaps, and laughs when Will tries to swipe at him. It's time for a quickie, hard and fast, and Will's nails and teeth are just adding to it.

Will slaps, curses, and kicks him. Then bucks like a wild horse when Sonny crushes Will underneath him on the bed, covering his mouth with a hot, hungry kiss.

"Not what you were expecting, huh?"

Breathless, Sonny tears at Will's shirt. "I think I've been exceeding your expectations just a little too much."

"Stop. Stop it!" Will's heart sprints under Sonny's rough hand. No, this isn't what he's come to expect from Sonny at all, any more than his own supercharged response to Sonny's dominance was what he's expecting from himself.

"Look at me." Sonny holds Will's hands on both sides of his head. "Tell me you don't want me, or this. Say it and actually mean it, and I'm gone."

"Let go of my hands." Though Will's gaze is still steady, his voice is shaking. "Let go of my hands right now."

Sonny lets go of one. "Say it." His muscles quiver. "Do you want this, or not?"

Will fists a hand in Sonny's hair and pulls his mouth back to his own. "I need this."

Will uses his teeth, gnawing at Sonny's lips. Using his leg, he wraps them around Sonny to hold him against himself.

"Take it." Will demands. "Hard. Hard and fast."

Sonny's hand shoots beneath the short shorts, pulling the boxers down with them. Sweat already covers the both of them as Will arches his back.

"Hang on." Sonny warns, before plunging inside him.

Will cries out as the explosive sensation rips right through him, cries out again as Sonny pushes deeper, harder. Filled, overpowered, taken until needs, frantic, outrageous needs flood through Will. Will's nails scratch Sonny's back, pinch Sonny's hips.

More. Will's mind screams. "More." Will says out loud. "I need more."

So does he. Sonny shoves Will's knees back, opens Will up and thrusts himself inside Will.

It hurts. Sonny's lungs, heart, his groin. The wild heat, the indescribable pleasure of going crazy with Will clouds his vision until the world is soaked in it.

The sun beats through the windows, the blast of music from the square, the squeak of springs as slick skin slaps in a rhythm against more slick skin.

And Will's eyes, deep and blue as turquoise, locking onto Sonny's.

I love you. For all the days of my life.

Sonny doesn't know if he actually said that out loud, or if the words are just stuck in a loop in his brain. But he sees Will's eyes change, watches emotions swirl in them, blinding them.

He hears Will sob for air, feels Will clench around him as he comes. Helpless, half out of his mind, Sonny shatters. And spills into him.

Out of air, out of his head, he collapses on top of Will. Underneath him, Will keeps quaking, quivering. And shuddering, aftershocks from an earthquake. Then he goes still.


	50. What You Waiting For?

"Don't move just yet." Sonny mumbles. He feels so hollowed out, like an empty husk that cold easily be blown away with a puff of air.

"No need."

Will's lips are on the side of his throat, the movement bringing him a very unique tenderness to it. Like a rainbow after a flood.

"Would you believe me if I said I actually came to talk to you?"

"Nope."

"Well, I did. Figured we get around to this afterwards. Plans change. I owe you a shirt and some boxers."

"I have plenty more."

Sonny's recovered just enough to prop himself up on his elbows, looking right at Will as he leans on his right side.

Will's cheeks are flushed and glowing, damp blonde hair clinging to his forehead as he looks right back at him.

He wants nothing more than to swallow him up like frozen yogurt.

"Making you mad got me all hot and bothered." He tells Will.

"Same. Looks like. I wasn't planning on doing this again."

"You weren't?"

"Nope." Will takes Sonny's hand, amazed by his own tenderness as he lets Sonny kiss it.

"I'd already made up my mind. Then you show up in my pub, all hot and sexy, drag me back in. You keep messing me up. You just keep unmaking up my mind, over and over."

"You're all I've ever wanted."

"Which is nothing good for you, Go." Will shoves Sonny's shoulder. "Get off. We're a sweaty mess."

"Let's take a shower, then we can talk. Actually talk." Sony repeats when Will raises an eyebrow at him. "Cross my heart." he criss crosses across his chest.

"I need to get back to work."

"William."

"Fine!" Will waves him off. He knows by now it's pointless to argue with him. God knows why he still finds that stubborn streak so intriguing. "Clean yourself up. I'm just gonna call the pub and make sure everything's covered for the time I won't be there."

Will finally steps into the shower just as Sonny's getting out. Sonny's pretty sure Will timed it that way, to avoid any potential intimacy. Giving him room, Sonny goes to the kitchen, finding the expected pitcher of lemonade, and pouring two glasses.

When Will joins him, wearing those same short shorts and a different shirts, Sonny offers him a glass.

Will takes it into the living room.

In the past few days, Will had resigned himself to how things had to be. The entire time, a part of him had in fact pined for Sonny. And every time he'd caught himself glancing towards the bar's entrance, hoping he'd walk through, or waking up in the middle of the night reaching for him, he'd chastised himself for being so pathetic.

Then he'd looked towards the door, and there he was. His own soaring delight, his boundless calm, had pissed him off before Will had even had his pride wounded by Sonny dragging him right out of the pub.

"Sonny." Will starts. "I wasn't being completely fair to you the other day. I wasn't in a fair mood."

"Save the apologies. I wanted to piss you off. I'll take you angry over sad anyday. She does both."

"I guess so. But I just hate how she's out there with Marlena, knowing she's gonna hurt her again. I can't do anything to stop or fix it, either. That's the worst part. But I never should;ve dragged you into it."

"You didn't. It just happened." Sonny angles his head. "Stop me if I'm wrong here. You seem to be under the impression that because of who and where I come from, I can't handle the messed up, more difficult, aspects of life. In this case, yours."

"I'm not saying you're too soft. But this particular part of my life is above your pay grade. You could never understand a woman like her."

"Because I was so sheltered." Sonny nods. "She showed up at the mansion today."

The rosy flush from sex and heat in Will's cheeks suddenly drains. "What?!"

"Kristen DiMera showed up around noon. I wondered whether or not I should tell you, before deciding I wasn't going to lie to you, or keep secrets. Not even to spare you the hurt. She showed up and invited herself in for a drink. And tried to seduce me."

"I'm so sorry." Will's lips feel stiff and cold as he says it. His throat burns like he's just swallowed battery acid. "That will not happen again. I promise."

"Dude, shut up. When have I ever needed protection? And you're gonna want to save that anger for after I'm finished." Sonny tells him. "When she reached for my fly, I told her she was embarrassing herself. And then she stepped up her game and threw herself on the table and sob her little heart out."

Sonny eases down on the arm of Will's couch. "Didn't squeeze out a lot of crocodile tears, but she put on a pretty good show. Whole story about how all these bad men were after her. They'd come after her, you, and Marlena if she didn't give them 5 grand. Where's she supposed to go, what's she supposed to do?"

The color returns to Will's cheeks, riding high on his cheekbones. "You paid her? How can you believe--."

"First a sheltered mama's boy, now an idiot." Sonny gives an exaggerated sigh, sipping his lemonade. "Really bruising my ego, Will. I didn't give her one red cent, and I made it abundantly clear that I wasn't buying into her crap. Which pissed her off enough to threaten to go to my family. Apparently she asked around about me and got a pretty good idea. Figured they'd be shocked and humiliated by the idea of their golden boy falling into your trap. And just to add insult to injury, she'd also say I fucked her too."

"She'd do it." It's more than the chill now. The sickness rolls in his stomach. "Sonny, he's more than capable of--."

"I told you to save it." Sonny's tone doesn't sting, it's just adamant. "She doubled her price to ten grand for the blackmail. I don't think she was too happy with my response. Then I kicked her out. And that's it. You can still be pissed if you want. Please don't cry." Sonny speaks pleadingly when he sees Will's eyes water. "She's not worth a single tear from you."

"I'm completely humiliated. Do you not get that?"

"I do. But we're also both smart enough to know it had absolutely nothing to do with you. I completely get it. And I'm sorry it had to happen, sorry I made it worse."

"It's not about you. It's never been about you." Will wipes a tear from his eyes before it can fall. "That's what I've been trying to get through your thick skull from the very beginning."

"It's not about you either, Will. It's never been about you. I got a really good look at her, long and hard, and I know for certain there's absolutely nothing about her that has anything to do with you, blood or no blood. Family doesn't start with blood, Will. What you do with your life, because of or despite that, that's where the real heart and soul is."

"I'm never going to be rid of her. Not completely. Nothing I do will ever change that."

"No, you're not."

"I'm sorry. No, goddamnit, I'm gonna say it." Will snaps when Sonny's face goes tight.

"I'm sorry she showed up at your house. I'm sorry she tried to go after your family. But I really, really, need you to not say anything to my grandma."

"Why would I do that?"

WIll nods, then gets up, wandering around the room.

He loves this place because he'd made it all up himself. He respects the life he's made for the same reasons. Now, because he just had to go and start caring for and respecting the man that is so determined to be in his life, he'll explain.

All of it.


	51. Rewrite the Stars

"She left me almost right after I was of legal age." Will starts. "Just went out one day, hotwired a car and drove away. Dumped it somewhere in Springfield. I was 19 before she turned up again. She was a slut when my dad met her. I got the talk before I was old enough to know what that even meant. Whenever she got in trouble, she ran back to Marlena and John, or the DiMeras. She was scared of losing her safety net--afraid she'd get arrested, or worse, or something else. So she married my dad, then left both of us. Only two things in the world I owe to her."

Wil draws in a breath, making himself sit down again. "Anyway, came back when I was 21, made all her phony promises about learning her lesson, she was sorry, she was clean. Stuck around for three days max, then took off again. Then the pattern repeats itself all over again, and has ever since. Sometime she'd show up all battered from whatever asswipe she'd been shacking up with. Other times she was sick, or flat out high. But Kristen DiMera always comes back."

Will falls silent, brooding over that singular, undeniable fact.

"And it always hurts when she does." Sonny says quietly. "Hurts both you and Marlena."

"She hurts everyone. Only talent she really has. She was high when she showed up at my graduation. We had a graduation party in the square, with family and friends, and she was baked, with some loser on her arm. It got really ugly really fast, and several of my family in the police chased them off. I need a drink." Will says, then leaves the room.

He comes back with a glass in his hand. "I had someone I was seeing, was crazy about him. I must've been 19, when she showed up. She got him booze and drugs, then fucked him. He wasn't much older than me, and bisexual, so I could hardly blame him for being stupid. She thought it was hilarious how I tripped over them right next to the river. She laughed her ass off. Still, when I got this apartment for myself, and she came back again, I let her stay with me. Better me than grandma, I thought. And this time...maybe. Just maybe."

"But she fucked guys in my bed and brought drugs into my apartment. She stole from me, then took off again. From that point on, I was done. I am done. And I never will be, Sonny. Nothing I will ever do will change the fact that she married my dad."

"Nothing she does can ever change who you are, either. Will, you're living proof of your own determination, and a testament to the ones who raised you. And she hates you just for being who you are."

Will stares at Sonny. "She hates me." he whispers. "I've literally never said that to anyone before. Why does saying a horrible thing, a truly horrible thing, make me feel so much better?"

"I'm not saying she'll never hurt you again, because she probably will. But now she can't hurt you as much, or as long."

Thoughtfully, Will sips his drink. "There I go again, underestimating you."

"That's fine. That way I still have a few surprises up my sleeve. Try this one on for size. She's connected to the DiMera Mansion."

"What exactly do you mean?"

"I actually don't know, not for sure, and I can't really explain it. I just know she is. I think she was meant to come back, here and now, to say what she said. One more loop in the belt. And I think she's just about done here, this time around. Call your grandma, Will. Don't let her put a strain on your relationship."

"I'm considering it. Maybe I will. Sonny." Will drinks again, then sets it down. "I was planning on ending things."

"You mean you were going to try."

"I mean it. We'd both be so much better off if we took a step back, and tried to be some form of friends."

"We can still do that. Our kids should have parents who like each other."

Will throws up his hands in frustration. "I have to get back to work."

"Fine. But listen. Speaking of weddings, there's a change of plans to Chad and Abi's. We've moved the whole thing to my place."

Will rubs his head, trying to switch his mood as smoothly as Sonny. "In...with all the half finished rooms and tools and lumber lying around, and--."

"That's a very bleak way of looking at it, and not even remotely helpful, especially since I was about to ask you for help. How good are you with painting?"

Will sighs. "You just love swooping in and saving the day, don't you?"

"Only for the ones that matter."


	52. Stranger in My House

At some point between Sonny leaving the DiMera mansion, and Abi showing up, Kristen pays another visit, riding on coke and the way she was insulted. If the pathetic bastard couldn't even spare the chump change for the stepmother of the man he's fucking, she's just gonna take it for herself.

She'd canvassed the first floor when he'd directed her back to the kitchen, and going in through the back, she goes straight to the library, and the big fancy desk she'd spotted.

People rolling in dough always have a stash hidden somewhere, in her experience. Quickly, she forces open the drawers, rifling through, then shouts in delight when she spots a generous pile of fifties. Those go straight into her pocket.

She figures the books he'd put on the shelves and the ones still boxed had to be worth something. But they're heavy, and therefore hard to sell. Most likely he has more cash lying around, along with some jewelry hidden in his bedroom.

She darts up the stairs. Knowing Sonny might barge in on her at any moment only makes the stealing that more exciting.

A door slams, forcing her to fall on her knees. It's a draft, she tells herself as she catches her breath, as her pulse starts to pop. Big, drafty old mansion. In fact, she still feels the cold air hit her like a blast as she gets back on her feet.

She touches a doorknob, yanking her hand away instantly. The knob's literally so cold, it hurts.

Doesn't matter. What the fuck? His room is down the hall anyway. She's not as stupid as everyone thinks. Had she not been watching the house for the past few days? Had she not seen him come out onto the veranda from the room right on the corner?

Laughing out loud, the sound echoing back at her, she dashes down the hall, streaks right through the open door. She forces open the top drawer of the dresser and hits the jackpot with the old antique box inside.

Real gold cufflinks--she has to assume they're real gold. Silver too, with a fancy stone right in the middle. Diamond earrings, a gold watch. And in another box inside this one, a guy's ring of...platinum, maybe, fashioned with two engraved scrolls.

She sets the box on the dresser, hunting through a couple more drawers until she finds another wad of cash.

It pays, doesn't it, you son of a bitch. Pays just fine.

She tosses the bills into the jewelry box, tucking it under her arm.

Standing there, breath whistling in excitement, cocaine pumping through her veins, she considers the thrill of trashing the place. It would be so satisfying--more payback. But it's not smart. And she's smarter than that.

She'll need time to pawn the jewelry, then turn the cash into more drugs. Time to get the hell out of here. Let sleeping dogs lie.

She'll go out the other side, in case Marlena has her eyes on the place.

But when she steps back into the hallway, she finds herself staring at the door from earlier.

What's in there anyway? She wonders. Could be something good. Maybe something she'll come back for later. Something that'll have her rolling in money.

Her breath isn't whistling anymore, now it's wheezing. Her skin is freezing, but she can't resist the urge to go in that room. She's by herself in this big place, isn't she? By herself, that means the place is rightfully hers.

It's her mansion.

Swallowing to clear her throat, she starts moving, shivering.

Are those voices? How could there possibly be voices when nobody's here but her? But they try to stop her, tell her to turn back. Something wrong, something bad. Time to leave.

But it's like hands are pushing her forward, until, with trembling hands, she reaches for the door.

She only meant to open it slowly--just to peek inside. But the second she touches it, it swings open violently.

She sees the man and the woman on the floor, a baby screaming. Sees the woman's eyes--staring at nothing, the light already left them. Dead.

And the man, his dark hair shining in the dim light, turns to look at her.

Kristen tries to scream, but can't catch the air. As she opens her mouth, something jumps inside her. For one horrifying moment it is her. Then it goes right through her. Cold, violent, angry.

Another figure materializes in the room. Female, prim, in her dressing gown.

Santo.

And in speechless terror, Kristen turns tail and runs.


	53. Heart Shaped Box

Within a day, Sonny realizes he has more help on the house than he gave himself credit for. Apparently everyone in Salem was invited to the wedding, and they're all more than willing to pitch in.

He has painters, plumbers, carpenters and errand boys. And though it does occur to him in the middle of it all that if half of them had offered to help with the mansion before it became a wedding venue, they could;ve had the whole thing done in about half an hour, he decided to keep that to himself.

A little rude to say something like that out loud.

And he appreciates the effort, he really does. He reminds himself of that whenever he feels like certain parts of the house are getting further away from him with someone else looking after them.

He'd been looking forward to screening the verandas himself, but takes comfort in knowing some freak storm would most likely call for a rescreen.

He wanted to sand and varnish the ballroom floors himself too, but managed to buck up when he remembers all the other floors waiting for him.

And he definitely doesn't mind handing over painting the exterior to the other painters. It's a hot, tedious and exhausting job, and checking it off his to-do list allows him to tackle the ladies' room downstairs, as well as hang the blown glass chandelier he'd bought for the smoking room, as well as finalize plans for the mudroom, and…

Hey, there's more than enough to go around, he reflects.

Then there's the genuine joy get gets out of watching Abi come in and out after work. Even when she brings her mom. Jennifer Devereaux is a spit-and-polish version of her daughter, with eyes like a hawk and a no nonsense voice.

Chad's right, she's definitely scary. Sonny hides from her, whenever he could, with no shame to be seen.

On the second day, Sonny walks towards the rear veranda to see how progress is coming along. He's feeling pretty excited from the tile he's just set, covered in ceramic dust from cutting it.

The level of noise is incredible. Voices, radios, tools. As much as he loves having people, right now he'd pay anything just for five minutes alone in his house.

"Hey, I want those windows sparkling, you understand me? How do you expect the wedding to be beautiful if the windows are dull in the pictures. Put your back into it!"

The sound of Mrs. Devereaux has Sonny turning sharply on his heels and changing his path.

And colliding right into Marlena, almost knocking her down.

"Whoa, sorry. You okay? Didn't see you there. I was hiding."

"You've got a full house."

"No kidding. If this place isn't perfect by General Devereaux's standards, we're all gonna be executed." Sonny takes her arm as he speaks and, out of pure self-preservation, leads her into the library, and shuts the doors.

"Can I stay with you?"

Marlena smiles--just a small curve of her lips that doesn't reach her eyes. "You're such a good friend, Sonny, helping a friend out like this."

"The only thing I'm doing right now is staying the hell out of everyone's way."

"And you'd sell a kidney to have them all go back wherever they came from, so you can work on your mansion in peace."

"Yeah, well." Sonny shrugs, pushing a dusty hand through equally dusty hair. "There's still plenty to do once they're gone. We're not touching the third floor or the servant's chambers, as well as only one other room on the second floor. Tell me what's wrong, Marlena."

"I need to work my way up to that." She sets down the bag she's holding, then walks over to look at the books. There's still plenty that need to be shelved, but she can still see what it will eventually be. A castle of words, some old and well loved, some fresh and brand new. Small treasures, deep colors.

"You're definitely a visionary." She says, "You know exactly what you want, then you make it a reality. It's an incredible gift."

"Some people call it narrow-minded."

"Anything but. You have so many different channels working at once in that beautiful mind of yours. Working on them one at a time until they're done shows a lot of character. I'm very fond of you, Sonny."

"I'm very fond of you too. I wish you'd sit down, Marlena. You look exhausted." And worried. "Shall I grab us a cold drink?"

"No, don't you go and risk getting lynched by Jennifer Devereaux. You want a perfect example of someone who's narrow minded, look no further. Though I can hardly blame her."

"She's already told me to get a haircut before the end of the week so I don't look shaggy for the wedding." Sulking only a little, Sonny runs a testing hand through his hair. "And that she'll be putting fancy soaps, towels and everything else in the bathrooms the day before the wedding. I touch them, I'll lose a hand. And I'm supposed to get more plants inside the greenhouse. Apparently the house has no lungs without green plants."

"She's just nervous because Abi's her little princess. Her only daughter." Marlena presses her lips together. "Sonny, I hate myself for what I'm about to say to you, and I wouldn't blame you if, after I'm finished, you were to ask me to not come back."

The words alarm him, almost as much as the pain in her eyes. "Nothing you could ever say that would make you unwelcome in my house, Marlena. Who was it?"

"Oh God, if this ruins what I can see happening between you and Will, I'll never forgive myself for it. Kristen stole from you." Marlena blurts out. "She waltzed right into your mansion and helped herself."

With a sinking heart, she reaches into her bag, pulling out his carved box. "I found this in the guest room. I knew it belonged to you before I even looked inside and saw the cufflinks with your initials. I don't know if everything is still there, but that's all there is now. If anything is gone--."

"Let me take a look. Just do me a favor and sit down. Please."

Marlena nods, sinking into a chair.

He forces his anger away as he sets the box down on a table, opening it. He sees the ring box first, opening it, and the worst of his anger fades when he sees the engraved scrolls shining back at him.

"Okay." Sonny exhales. "The most important thing is still in there." As is everything else besides the couple thousand in twenties he kept with the money clip that had been passed down through three generations.

"Everything's here."

"You're lying." Marlena says flatly.

"Just the money. That's all."

"I need you to tell me how much she took so I can repay you."

"You seriously think I'd ever take money from you?" Some of the anger comes out, making her flinch. "Look at me. Do you honestly think I'd ever take money from you over this, or anything else?"

Her lips start to quiver, so she makes them form a thin line. "She's my responsibility.

"Like hell she is. Please don't insult me by talking about payback again."

Despite promising to not cry in front of him, one falls out anyway. "I know exactly what she is. And I know she'll never be what I've been hoping and working and wishing for since Lucas first married her. But she raised Will."

She pulls out a tissue, dabs at her cheeks. No more tears. "I knew she was going to steal from me before she took off again, but I never thought she'd go after you. I didn't even consider it, and I'm more sorry than words can ever say."

"Look at me. Does anything in my face say I blame you for any of this?"

"No, you don't. But God, I want you for Will I'm sitting here knowing my step daughter-in-law tried to rob you, and all I can think about is how much I want you for my grandson."

"Good, because I want me for him too." He picks up the ring box, crossing over to her chair. "I bought this for him. Think maybe you could put in a good word for me so when I give it to him, he accepts?"

Marlena looks at the ring, sighing. "It suits him. It really does. He has the kindest heart, Sonny, but it's covered in scars. Sometimes I think he doesn't know his own strength, and he'll gorget how to give back. I have to tell him about this."

"Yes you do."

"And you're gonna have to figure out how to stop him from pulling away once he does know. That's what he's gonna want to do."

"Don't worry about that. Where's Kristen?"

"Gone. Found this in the guest room this morning. Barely came out at all since the day before. When I went in and found it, I hid it somewhere she wouldn't look for it. Then we had some choice words about it. Then she just packed up and left. She'll be back," she says in that same hollow tone Sonny's heard from Will. "Maybe a year or two. And we'll go through it all over again."

"We'll deal with it once we get there." Sonny leans down and kisses her cheek. "I love you." When her eyes fill again, Sonny takes her hand again. "Whether Will's ready to hear it or not, we're family. That doesn't go away."

"When I meet your mother," Marlena manages, "I'm gonna give her the biggest spine crushing hug I possibly can."

"That'll definitely surprise her. Why don't we look at what's going on here, so you can protect me from General Devereaux."

He's not expecting it to take long, and he's not disappointed. Right around the time most of his free workers were leaving for the day, and Abi and her mom have him out in the back garden, Will strides around the side of the house.


	54. Did You Ever Have To Make Up Your Mind

Since Sonny's in the middle of nodding along with everything the Devereaux women are saying regarding their wedding agenda, the impending confrontation in Will's eyes is more than welcome.

"It has to be wrapped in tulle and lace."

"Uh huh."

"And we need baskets--white ones--of flowers hanging from the veranda.

"Of course."

"The florist needs to start early the day of, so just stay out of the way and make sure they can get to all the areas of the house marked on my chart."

"No problem at all. Will." Sonny reaches out and clutches Will's hand. A dying man grabbing a lifeline. "We were just talking about flowers."

"Flowers can make or break a wedding." Mrs. Devereaux declares, and makes more notes on the clipboard she carries on her at all times. "How are you, Will?"

"I'm just fine, Aunt Jen. Isn't this exciting? Cutting down to the wire. Abi, you have to be nearly driving yourself crazy."

"I hit nearly a long time ago, now I'm on the edge of full scale insanity."

"It's all going to be perfect." Will keeps his smile bright, as well as his voice even as the dark anger courses through him. "Those camellias are going to be wonderful on your special day."

"These gardens are going to be quite the sight." Mrs. Devereaux agrees, running a finger down the checklist again. "Pity there's not time to get an arbor, cover it in clematis." She looks at Sonny with only a slightly accusatory look.

"Maybe one of the workers can work something out. Uh, can you excuse me for a moment? There's something I need to show Will."

Sonny finally escapes, pulling Will towards the steps to the second floor veranda. Some of General Deveraux's cronies are still lurking down below. "They're like roaches." Sonny babbles. "Just when you think they're gone, boom, more pop up."

"What're you talking about?"

"People everywhere. Watch the bucket. I think we're safe in the ballroom."

"Feeling a little suffocated, aren't you?"

"I'm thinking of a little vacation in Costa Rica until everything is over. I have to say, I admire you a lot more now."

"Really." Will looks down at one of the ladders, tarps, debri from construction--and the two women picking their way through with visions of tulle and lace. "How so?"

"You can be ready to spit fire, and still make polite conversation about camellias." Sonny peeks through the ballroom doors, sighing. "We're clear. Anyway, usually when us guys blow a fuse, it goes everywhere. So…" Sonny steps inside. "What do you think?"

The walls are a pale pink, the floor gold and gleaming.

"It's huge."

"It has to be for this shindig. The General said we have about 300 coming. Otherwise, you can use the dividers to turn it into two rooms."

Sonny crosses the floor, drawing one of the huge dividers out. "Isn't this incredible?" He trails his fingers over the wood reverently. "The work that had to have gone into these. Decades ago. I hate hiding them away. Look how the pattern matches the ceiling. Eli did one hell of a job restoring it."

Will and worked himself into a frenzy since his talk with Marlena, but finds it trickling away as he watches Sonny's unfiltered excitement and pride.

"This is your true love, isn't it? This house. Nobody looks at another man or woman the way you look at a door."

"It's how I look at you."

Will has to turn away. "God, you make it so hard to stay pissed. Tell me why you're not pissed, Sonny. Why aren't you more pissed she stole from you?"

"Oh believe me, I am. And if I ever see her again, I'll be sure to let her know."

"You should call the cops."

"I did consider it. Might get some of the money back, but I don't want to embarrass Marlena."

"She already is."

"I know. So why make it worse? I got back the things I cared about."

The bitterness floods through Will. "She waltzed right into your mansion, and went through your personal belongings. She stole from you."

Sonny cocks an eyebrow at Will's tone. "Gearing up for another fight?"

"Godfuckingdamnit, Sonny, she invaded your home. It's not like stealing from me and my grandma Marlena. How much did she steal."

"Couple grand."

Will's jaw clenches. "I'll write you a check and give it to you tomorrow."

"And the first thing I'm gonna do is rip it up. Put your wallet away, Will. I figure I just learned my lesson the hard way. If you're going to live in a small town, with a mansion full of valuables and wads of cash, you can't just walk away and leave them unguarded."

"She'd just break a window."

"Exactly. That's why I'd get a couple of guard dogs. Always liked the idea of dogs. Maybe I'll go to the shelter after the wedding. Wanna come?"

Will shakes his head. "You lose a couple grand--which I'm betting is actually more than you said--to a junkie, and your solution is to adopt a dog."

"Thought it would be fun. What do you say? They'd be your dogs too."

"Sonny, just stop it."

"No way." With a satisfied smirk, Sonny walks towards him. "Let's get a couple of mutts, Will. Good practice before we have our kids."

"Go get your own." But Sonny succeeds in making Will smile. "And chase after them when they pee on everything and chew on your shoes."

"You're wearing my pin." Sonny says as he slips his arms around Will, pulling him into a slow dance.

"It's my pin now."

"You think of me every time you put it on."

"Maybe. Then I think about how good it looks on me, and I forget it had anything to do with you."

"Then I'll just have to refresh your memory."

"Cufflinks." Will skims his fingers up to the nape of Sonny's neck, into his hair. "Maybe a bracelet."

"I was thinking of an anklet."

Will laughs, eases himself closer so he can rest his cheek on Sonny's. They're waltzing, with a song in his head. The same one he'd heard Sonny hum or whistle multiple times.

Will can smell the day's work on him--sweat and dust--and underneath, the faint hint of soap from his shower. His cheek is slightly rough against Will's, from lack of shaving.

If life played out like a fairy tale, Will thinks, they'd be able to stay just like this. Waltzing around and around on the smooth floor, while the sun sets, the flowers protest, and the lights from tiny crystals cover them both.

"My feelings for you run so deep. You're in my heart. You're in my bones. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that."

"Give it to me." Sonny begs, turning his lips into Will's hair. "I'll never let you go."

It's in that moment that Will realizes he'd said that out loud. Definitely wasn't planning on it either. Now, when Will would;ve pulled away, Sonny pulls him closer. So close, so secure, Will scared to even breathe.

His head spins, and the music inside it crescendos. The strong scent of lavender roses reach his nose, almost suffocating him.

"You can hear it, can't you?" Sonny's hands shake as he grips Will's arms. "The music."

"I can't…" Sonny's voice sounds so far away, and as Will fights to stay focused on his face, another seems to take it over. "I'm disoriented."

"Let's take a seat." Sonny keeps his hands on Will's arms, lowering them to the floor. "You can hear it too. The music. And you can feel it."

"Just wait a minute." Will has to get ahold of himself. The room's still empty except for the two of them. There's no music, no crystal lighting, no vases overflowing with lavender roses. Yet Will had heard, seen, and smelled all of them. "I didn't know you could catch a hallucination."

"It's not a hallucination. You're remembering. Somehow, you're remembering. They danced in here, Tom and Alice, just like we did. Loved each other, like we do." When Will shakes his head, Sonny curses. "Fine, asshole, he loved her the way I love you. And there's something very much still alive between them. Maybe something that needs to be seen through to the end, or at least openly acknowledged. We're here, Will."

"Yeah, we are. But they're not living vicariously through us."

"That's not what I meant."

"That's how it feels. And living their lives just means dying their deaths. He drowned himself in that pond right out there, and she--"

"Died in the house."

Will takes a calming breath."Depending on which story you believe is the truth."

"I know it is. Upstairs, in the makeshift nursery. Something happened to her there. And he never knew. He grieved himself to death because he never knew. I have to find out for his sake. And for mine. I need you to help me."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Come back to the makeshift nursery with me. We're a lot closer than before. Maybe this time you'll remember. All of it."

"Sonny." Will tries to pull away. "I can't. There's nothing to remember."

Sonny goes to stop him,"You blessed my trees with holy water, but are refusing to deny the possibility of reincarnation, which was your idea in the first place? This is what we've been waiting for!"

"That's not what I'm saying. There's nothing to remember because I'm not Alice. You are."


	55. I Write Sins Not Tragedies

Will might as well have wrapped his knuckles and took a swing right at his jaw. The shock has Sonny flinching from the impact.

"No way. That's impossible."

"Why?"

"Because…" Flustered, and oddly mortified, Sonny gets to his feet. "You're seriously telling me I was a straight woman?"

"Why is that so shocking? A lot of people are just fine as a woman."

"I'm not. I couldn't have been."

"If anything, it explains everything."

"No explanation. None. Nuh uh."

"You're always the one who hears the baby cry." Will's honestly never seen Sonny this flustered before. "A mother always knows, before anyone else. And you keep being led into that room upstairs, the way a mom is to her baby. Even when the room scares the crap out of you, you keep going back. You said how you went into the servants chambers, how easy it was to navigate? She'd know it like the back of her hand, but why would Tom?"

"It was his house." But now Sonny's remembering how he'd imagined himself looking out the window, imagined seeing the two men pulling up to the house. Why would he be seeing Tom if he was Tom?

"And that's not all." Will goes on. "One I think is pretty telling. That day when I showed up and saw you walking towards the pond, in a trance. You were walking really weird. I couldn't figure out what it was that made it stick out to me, but now I'm sure of it. That's how a pregnant woman walks. Kind of like a waddle." Will says as Sonny turns to gape at him in horror. "Hand on the small of your back. Very careful steps."

"So now I'm wasn't just a straight woman, I was a pregnant straight woman?"

"Oh good God, Sonny, there's people that believe you can come back as a butterfly. What's so bad about being a pregnant woman?"

"Because last I checked, women go into labor after 9 months, then have to push out several pounds of flesh out of a very cramped space."

The horror on Sonny's face is hilarious, enough to get Will to relax a little more into the theory. "I'm pretty sure you won't be having a repeat performance in this life. Did you ever stop to think that if you look at this whole thing from this new perspective, you might find the answers you're looking for?"

Sonny's suddenly hyper aware of his crotch, suddenly having the urger to rub it to make sure all his parts are still intact. "I like the other theory better."

"You should be more open minded. I need to get to work."

"Whoa hold on, hold on." Sonny chases him down. "You're just gonna blow my reality out of the water, and just leave?"

"Some of us have to work for a living."

"Come back and stay the night. Please."

"I need to stay the night at my grandma Marlena's for a night or two until she's managed to calm down."

"Alright." Sonny lets out a breath when they finally get to the main floor. "I need to try something." He spins Will around, crushing their mouths together. Then pulls the kiss into deep and dreamy.

"You getting any straight feelings from that?" Sonny asks when he pulls back.

"Hmm." Will licks his top lip, pretending to think about it. "Nope. I can say with 100% certainty you are a gay guy this time around. Now go away. You have a lot to do in the next few days to keep yourself busy. Whatever this is has waited almost eight decades, it can stand to wait until after Chad's wedding."

"Stay the night after Marlena's feeling better."

"Fine."

"I love you, Will."

"That's what I'm scared of." Will whispers, before walking away.


	56. Time in a Bottle

Will leaves the pub as early as he's able to, but it's still well into early in the morning when she pulls up to Marlena's apartment. The porch light is on, moths fluttering around it. He just sits there for a moment, listening to the sounds of wildlife, the teasing whisper of a slight breeze.

This is the place of his early years. Maybe where his heart's been lying dormant, all this time. Though he'd built a good life in Salem, it's this place he came to when he was at his happiest, or saddest. It's here he thought of his deepest feelings and kept his biggest secrets.

He'd let himself dream once--those childish dreams of falling in love, and someone to love him, of building a home with kids and lazy Sunday mornings. Even when he came out of the closet, he'd never stopped wanting it.

Why did he stop?

It was that sweaty summer afternoon, Will can't deny it. That hot, lazy day when he'd caught the first boy he was head over heels in love with fucking Kristen DiMera on a blanket by the river.

The river that was his, the boy that was his. The stepmother that was his.

It had completely shattered his life into pieces, Will thinks now. The time before it happened, when he was still young and naive, when it still felt like the sky was the limit. And then after, where there's only aspiration, perseverance, and an unbreakable vow to never let himself believe again.

The boy doesn't even matter anymore, he knows that now. Will can't even conjure up his face in his mind. Kristen doesn't even matter, not at the heart of it. But the moment itself definitely does.

Without it, who knows how differently his life could've gone? But really, he and whoever the guy was would've broken up soon enough anyway. But maybe it would've had a sweeter ending, and he'd be able to look back on his first love more fondly.

But that crystal clear memory of betrayal literally made him into the man he is now. He'd finally learned then what it would've taken him years otherwise to understand. That a gay man such as himself was smarter, and safer, to be in the driver's seat. Men would come and go, and enjoying them is great.

It's loving them that's suicide.

Suicide? Will shakes his head as he climbs out of the car. A little overdramatic, isn't it? Heartbreak can't kill you.

But it's what killed him.

Will all but hears the voice in his head. It wasn't a knife wound, or the pond that had killed Thomas Horton.

He'd died from a broken heart.

Will lets himself into the house and immediately sees the light from Marlena's room. He steps into the doorway, cocking his head. Marlena is sitting on her bead, book open in her lap.

"What're you doing up so late?"

"Waiting for you. Didn't think you'd be back for another hour."

"Business was light enough to let me go."

Marlena pats the bed in invitation. "You were worried about me, but you shouldn't be."

"I thought you said worrying was your job." Will lays down on top of the sheets head on the curve of her arm. "Now it's mine. I'm sorry she hurt you."

"That's just her job. And she's damn good at it." Marlena strokes Will's hair. "I have you, though. I have my darling Will."

"I was wondering what it was like having to raise me with John after Kristen bailed."

"You were nothing but a delight for us both."

"Made me think about how the Horton/DiMeras brought your dad back to their place when he was a baby. You still remember him, don't you?"

"Very well. You're a lot like him. You've seen his pictures, and you're named after him, so you already know that."

"He ever say how the DiMera mansion should've been his?"

"Not once. He was happy, Will. Maybe even happier than he would've been in that mansion, under different circumstances. He had a thing for baking too, which he passed onto me. He was an amazing storyteller. Sometimes when he was visiting, he'd make up stories like they actually happened. If he wasn't so adamant on being a surgeon, he would've been an incredible writer."

"But he had to have thought of his parents and the Horton/DiMeras. Happy or not, he had to think of them."

"I'm sure he did. He took flowers to his father's grave. Every year on his birthday."

"He did? You never told me that."

"Said he owed him his life--his own, his children, grandchildren. Even left flowers for Adelaide Horton and Gino DiMera. Though he never said a prayer for them. And there was something else he did, on his birthday every year until he died. He'd toss flowers into the river, and said a prayer."

"For his mom?"

"He never said, but I'd think so."

"You think that's where Alice is? The river?"

"So they say."

Will raises his head. "I'm not asking they. I'm asking you."

"I know sometimes I'm walking along the river and feel an unfathomable sadness. And sometimes I think, old souls grasp at second chances. And keep grabbing until they get it right. What're you grabbing for?"

Will lays his head down again, closing his eyes. "I thought I found it. Now I don't know anymore. He really loves me, Grandma."

"I know he does."

"If I admit to loving him back, it changes everything."

Marlena smiles, leaning over to turn off the light. "It always does." she murmurs, continuing to stroke Will's hair. "It always does."


	57. I Gotta Feeling

As the host for Chad's bachelor party, Sonny feels contractually bound to stay all the way until the end. Which turned out to be some place called Doug's where the booze goes down smooth, and the strippers were well paid.

Not that anybody noticed.

In the spirit of good-fellowship, Sonny tucks in one last dollar in the lacy garter on a well tanned thigh, then pulls a glassy eyed Chad to his feet.

"Let's get going."

"What? Why? Is it morning?"

"Just about."

As they make their way out, arm in arm in friendship as much as necessity, Chad takes a look around. His head bobs back and forth like a puppet on a string.

"Where'd everybody go?"

"Passes out, arrested, or dead in a ditch."

"Wimps." Chad puts on a clearly plastered smile. "You and me, Son. Still got it."

"I'm going through a round of antibiotics to make it go away." Sonny trips, having to grab Chad to stop himself from falling on his face. "Heavy. There's suddenly way too much gravity out here."

"Let's go find another naked lady."

"I think we found all of them in one night. We're going home, buddy."

"In three days I'm gonna be married." Chad holds up two fingers in demonstration. "No more frolicking for Chad DiMera." He looks around again. The square is practically deserted and glazed from the light rain. "Do we need bail money for anybody?"

"Who cares?"

"You're so right. Where's my fiance? Abi!" Chad shouts, the name echoing back, prompting a drunken snort from Sonny.

"Stellaaaaa!" Laughing at his own joke,Sonny sits down in a puddle. "Fuck it. We'll just sleep here."

"Nuh uh. Gonna find my beautiful fiance and make sweet love to her all night long."

"You couldn't screw anything with Viagra."

"Wanna bet?" Chad fumbles for his zipper, and luckily Sonny has a few brain cells still intact to stagger over and stop him.

"Put that away before somebody gets hurt. Or we're arrested for indecent exposure."

"Who cares? We're bigshots."

"Speak for yourself. Find a cab. We need to find a cab."

"Cab to Abi. Where's my blushing bride?"

"Sleeping in her bed, like every decent person is at…" Sonny lifts Chad's wrist, trying to look at the watch. "Something o'clock in the morning. WIll's in bed. He thinks I'm a straight woman."

"You're doing something wrong in bed, then."

"No, you dumbass. And remind you to hit you for that later. He thinks I'm alice."

"You haven't been sniffing around Victoria's Secret, have you?"

"Black with the red rosebuds are the most flattering on my ass."

"I'm almost positive that's a joke. Wait." Chad stops, leaning over, hands on his knees. Then he straightens up. "False alarm. Don't need to puke."

"Best nes all night. Taxi!" Sonny waves frantically when he sees one passing by. "In the name of all that is good. You first." he says, all but shoving Chad inside before diving in after him.

"Where do I live?" Chad demands. "I know this, but don't remember. Can we call Abi and ask?"

Thankfully Sonny does remember, and as Chad snoozes on his shoulder, he focuses on staying awake until he fulfills his last duties as best man, making sure Chad gets home safe.

At the curb, he elbows Chad and brings him up. "What, huh? How? Sonofagun, I made it home. What're the odds?"

"Can you get home from here?" Sonny asks him.

"I can hold my own. All six gallons." Shifting, Chad catches Sonny's face, kissing him hard on the mouth. "I love you, man. But if you'd been Alice, I would've used tongue."

"Yuck." is all Sonny can manage as Chad climbs out.

"You're the best motherfucking friend I've ever had, and that was the best motherfucking bachelor party in existence. I'm gonna go inside and throw up, now."

"You do that. Wait till he's inside." Sonny tells the driver, and watches Chad stagger as he somehow gets inside the building.

"Okay, the rest is up to him. You know where the DiMera mansion is?"

The driver looks at him in the rearview mirror. "I suppose so."

"I live there. Take me home?"

"That's a long drive." The driver shifts, turning to eye Sonny up and down. "You got enough for your fare?"

"I got money. Loads." Sonny digs through his pockets, pulling the bills out, showering the cab with them. "I'm stinking rich."

"You're not kidding." Shaking his head, the driver pulls away. "Must've been one hell of a party."

"Tell me about it." Sonny mutters, then slides onto the seat face first.


	58. I Won't Say I'm in Love

The next thing Sonny's clearly aware of, a band is blasting in his mind. He's still lying face down, but the Sahara desert has somehow made its way to his mouth, and his tongue has developed some furry film over it.

Some cruel bastard has apparently decided he's not suffering enough, and is pounding on his shoulder.

"Jesus, Mary, Joseph and St. Peter."

"They can't help you now. Roll over nice and easy. Don't try to open your eyes yet."

"I'm dying. Call my mom."

"I'm here. It's Will." Gently, with some amusement, Will eases Sonny over, supporting his head. "Swallow."

Sonny chugs, promptly chokes, feels something disgusting slide over the film on his tongue, through the desert and down his throat. In hi defense, he does try to push the glass away, and opens his eyes.

If anyone ever asks, he'll spend the rest of his life denying the sound that comes out of his mouth in any way shape or form sounds like a full on squeal.

Will clicks his tongue. "Told you you didn't want to open your eyes."

"Eyes? What eyes? They've evaporated into dust."

"Keep drinking."

"Go away, go as far away as you possibly can, and take that crap with you."

"Is that any way to talk to the only guy that's sitting by your deathbed?"

Sonny slides back down, dragging a pillow over his face. "How'd you know I'm dying?"

"Abi called me."

"So when's Chad's funeral?"

"Lucky for him, he's marrying a woman that has a huge level of understanding, and an awesome sense of humor. How many bars did you guys hit?"

"All of them."

"That explains why you have lipstick on your cheek."

"I do not." But when he reaches under the pillow, he feels it. "Oh God. Please just put me out of my misery now."

"...Okay." Will applies just enough pressure to get Sonny to throw his hands up and shove him away.

Sonny's face is completely flushed, bloodshot eyes just a little bit crazy. "Not funny. At all."

"Had to look at it from where I'm standing." And Will laughs. Sonny's still fully clothed, the wrinkled, booze soaked shirt half tucked, half not, eyes narrowed to a painful squint.

"You'll feel better in no time--not the greatest, but a lot better. You'll have a shower and some food, on top of that concoction I just made you drink, you'll get all the feeling back in your nether regions in about...two, three hours max."

Someone's taken care of the nasty film on his tongue. Not entirely sure if that's a good thing. "What did you put in that thing you made me drink?"

"You don't want to know, but I dd lace it with four Excedrin, so don't take anything else for a while. I'm gonna fix you some light eggs and toast."

"Why?"

"Because you look pitiful." WIll starts to kiss Sonny, then jerks back, waving a hand in between them. "Jesus Christ, you really need to do something about that breath before someone dies from it."

"Who asked you, anyway?"

"And make that shower as long as possible. You smell like you spent the night in a bathroom." Will pushes to his feet. "How come nobody's here?"

"In preparation for a hangover, I told anyone who showed up here before 4 in the afternoon is liable to be shot."

Will checks his watch. "Still got a few hours."

"If I have to move one thing out of bed, I'm getting the gun myself. I'll feel like shit for shooting you, but right now I'd actually do it."

"I'll just be in the kitchen." Will cocks his head. "If you bring a gun, you'd damn well be sure you know how to use it."

"You trying to say something?" Sonny calls after him, then immediately regrets raising his voice. Holding his head so it doesn't move, he carefully eases himself out of bed.

Will's laughing all the way down stairs, laughing even harder when he hears a door slam. He's gonna be sorry he did that, Will thinks, then stops, looking back when he hears two more slams.

Ah shit...well, Will knows you can't threaten to shoot a ghost.

"Make all the noise you want." Will says as he heads back towards the kitchen. "Doesn't bother me."

The library doors shake as he passes them. Will iglores them; if a drunk guy doesn't scare him off, a bad tempered ghost sure as hell won't.

He looked so adorable, Will thinks as he hunts for coffee beans. Pale, and gay, and pissed off. And with that silly lipstick planted on his face.

Men probably lose half their brain cells when they go to strip clubs. Put them together with a mix of men and women willing to take their clothes off, and they all have the same common sense of cottage cheese.

Will grinds the beans, setting the coffee to brew. He's mixing eggs in a bowl when it suddenly occurs to him this is the first time he's ever made breakfast for a man he didn't sleep with the night before.

Ain't it funny how life works like that?

What's even funnier is how he's humming in a kitchen that belongs to a pissed off, foul smelling, hungover guy that had just snapped at him. Completely unlike me, Will thinks. What the hell's going on here?

He'd been so touched by Abi's cheerful amusement over Chad's condition, and now here Will is, doing the same with Sonny.

Will looks out the window at the garden that used to be wild and abandoned only a few months prior. Now it's blooming beautifully, with new life, fresh green sticking out.

Looks like he's gone and done it after all. Gone and let Sonny sneak up inside him, underneath all the locks and bolts.

Will Horton is in love with Sonny Kiriakis.

God knows he doesn't want to be--for Sonny's just as much, if not more than, his own.

Sonny has managed to dust off his dreams he'd fought so hard to push away. The ones highlighted by love and hope and trust. They're so beautifully polished now, they're looking him right in the face. So sparkly, they're blinding.

And scaring the crap out of him.

Married. The man wants to marry him, and Will firmly means in not making promises unless you've proven beyond a shadow of a doubt you have every intention of keeping them.

Does he? Will he?

"I know I want to." Will says quietly, out loud. "I definitely want to, for him."

As he speaks, a cupboard door flies open. A mug shoots out and smashes at his feet.

Will jumps back, heart pounding as the shards land by his ankles. Bitterly, he stares down at the blood leaking out of the tiny cuts.

"I already did, didn't I? And you're not happy." Bowl still clutched tightly in his hand, he spins around. "You'll do anything to stop us from being together. But we'll just see who's gonna win this battle, won't we? Just wait and see."

Purposely, Will reaches down for one of the pieces, then runs it over his thumb. As the blood leaks out, he holds up his hand, letting it drip. "I'm not weak like he was. If I take the love offered, if I promise to give it back, it's for keeps."


	59. Rude

The chimes have Will bolting straight up. It's Sonny's song. The first few notes. Fear and wonder closes Will's throat, have him fumbling to hold onto the bowl.

"Goddamnit, answer the door!" Sonny's voice blasts downstairs, clearly annoyed. "Then you have my permission to execute whoever it is stupid enough to ring the doorbell."

Doorbell? Will pushes his hand through his hair. Sonny has gone and installed a doorbell to play "Bewitched". That has Sonny written all over it.

"If you insist on yelling at me." Will calls as he marches down the hall. "You have a lot worse than a hangover in your future."

"If you'd go away and let me die, I wouldn't have to yell at all."

"In two easy steps, I'm gonna come up there and strangle you myself. Then I'm gonna kick your ass five ways to Sunday."

Will yanks the door open on that last threat, and finds himself glaring at a very good looking couple. One blink is all it takes to clear his temper, and a closer look shows Sonny's eyes looking back at him from the woman's face.

"I'm Adrienne Kiriakis." The woman, neat, blond and lovely, holds out a hand. "And who might you be? If it's my son's ass you plan on kicking five ways to Sunday, I'd rather know your name first."

"Mom?" Dripping wet from the shower, wearing nothing but beat up sweats, Sonny rushes to the top of the stairs. "Hi! Mom, Dad."

Despite the insistent hangover, he charges right down, throwing one arm around both and squeezing. "I thought you said you'd be here tomorrow."

"Change of plans. Are you just waking up?" Adrienne demands. "It's almost 2 in the afternoon!"

"Last night was the bachelor party. Hard booze, easy strippers."

"Oh really?" Adrienne says, eying Will.

"No no, not him. He's here to play army medic. Adrienne and Justin Kiriakis, I'd like you to meet William Horton."

"Nice to meet you." Justin, tall with dark hair streaked with silver, sends Will a warm smile. His eyes are bright and bold as he holds out his own hand.

Followed by narrowing in concern when he sees Will's thumb. "You're bleeding."

"Don't worry about it."

"What happened? You hurt yourself? Jesus, Will." Panicking, Sonny grabs Will's wrist, all but sweeping him off his feet and pulling him towards the kitchen.

"It's barely a scratch. Sonny, stop. You're embarrassing me in front of your parents." Will hisses.

"Shut up and let me see how deep the cut is."

Still standing in the doorway, Adrienne turns to Justin. "He's the one?"

"He definitely thinks so, from what you told me." Justin steps into the house. "Let's have a look-see. And quite the looker."

"I can see that, Justin." And she uses her eyes now to take the house in as they follow Sonny's steps.

It's so much more than she's expecting. Not that she doubted her son's taste. But up to now, she'd been led to believe the mansion was dilapidated, ready to cave in with one fatal blow. What's seeing now is elegant rooms, exquisite details, shining glass and wood.

And in the kitchen she sees her son, hovering over the hand of a very annoyed, very handsome man who looks more than capable of making good on his earlier threat.

"Excuse me." Will elbows Sonny aside and smiles coolly at Sonny's parents. "I just dropped a cup. It's very nice to meet both of you."

Sonny turns to search the cupboards. "You need some peroxide and a bandage."

"Would you stop? You're acting like I lost a digit. And if you don't watch your step, you're gonna step on the broken ceramic and be worse off than me. Sorry again, for disrupting your welcome." Will says to Sonny's parents. "I'm just gonna clean up this mess, then vamoose."

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Sonny demands. "You promised breakfast!"

Will briefly wonders if Sonny can hear Will grinding his teeth. "Pour what's in the bowl into a skillet, turn on the burner, and voila. It's food." Will forces open the closet. "Why haven't you offered your parents coffee or some other drink after their long trip? I thought they raised you better than that."

"We did." Justin agrees.

"Sorry. Watching the man that I love bleeding out sort of stole my focus."

"Sonny." Though Will keeps his voice low, the warning is loud and clear.

"Coffee sounds wonderful." Justin says lightheartedly. "Came straight from the airport, and wanted to see the place. You too, Sonny." he adds with a wink.

"Where're your bags?"

"Sent to the hotel. Sonny, this place is huge. So much space for one person."

"Will and I want two kids."

Will heaves the broken mug into the trash before turning on Sonny.

"Okay, just dogs." Sonny backpedals without a hitch. "But that's as low as I'm willing to go."

"I have enough." Will shoves the broom and dustpan into Sonny's hands. "Clean up your own mess. Enjoy your stay." Will says stiffly to Adrienne and Justin. "I'm gonna be late for work."

He goes out the back because it's closer, fighting over an overwhelming urge to slam the door hard enough to break a window.

"Isn't he gorgeous?" Sonny says with a huge smile. "Isn't he perfect?"

"You annoyed and embarrassed the hell out of him." Justin tells him.

"Good. That's how I know I'm making progress. Let me grab the coffee, then I'll give you a tour."


	60. A Love Without End

An hour later, Sonny with his dad on the rear veranda while Adrienne--who'd all but insisted--makes sandwiches.

The worst of his hangover has vanished. Sonny's almost positive whatever was in that thing Will made him drink was to thank--as is the pleasure of seeing him in the same room as his parents.

God, he misses them, he thinks. He honestly had no idea how much until they'd shown up.

"So," he said after a beat. "You gonna tell me what you think or not?"

"Yes." But Justin just sits and keeps looking out over the gardens. "It's a bit warm, huh? Pretty early to be warm."

"Actually it's cooler. If you'd been here a couple days ago. You could've fried an egg on the sidewalk."

Justin can hear the way he says it, with pride. "You never liked the cold. Even when we went skiing, you preferred staying in the lodge over being on the slopes."

"They literally just invented skiing to make snow look good."

"Then don't expect an invite to Vermont." But Justin moves his hand over to squeeze Sonny's shoulder. "The place is amazing, Sonny. Even the parts you haven't touched are amazing, in their own way. Your mom thought you messing around with tools was such a neat hobby. That's what she preferred to think. As long as you were the CEO of Titan Industries, it was more likely you'd stay in Chicago. You'd be close. She hated seeing you leave, so she made a stink about it. She's not gonna apologize, either. You're her pride and joy."

"I don't have to be in Chicago to be close."

Justin shakes his head. "You don't stop by at the spur of the moment. We don't bump into you at a restaurant, or parties, or even the theater. That's hard for her, something I'm sure you'll be able to understand when you have the two promised kids."

"I don't want to make Mom sad."

"Of course she's sad. Don't be silly. She loves you, you know?"

"So she says." Sonny jokes.

Justin looks at him, eyes on eyes. "Lucky for us both, I love you enough to say what she can't yet. You found a home here. I won't lie, she's still hoping you didn't, but I know you have, and I'm proud of you."

"Thank you." Sonny leans in to hug his dad.

"Now, as for him…"

"Will."

"I know his name, Sonny." Justin says dryly. "As potential in-laws, I think we're both entitled to call him "him" until we really get to know him. As for him, he's absolutely nothing like the guy either of us pictured you winding up with. Not when we pictured you thriving as CEO, buying a house close to ours, with easy access to the country club. Paul fitted those requirements as son-in-law pretty well in that case. A good, challenging partner who knows how to hold his own and knows how to reach people."

"Then why don't you just adopt him?"

"Shut up, Sonny." Justin's voice is mild. Will would've known that tone immediately. "I'm not done. Paul, however well suited for us we might've thought, was obviously not the one for you. You weren't happy, not really, and even I'd started to see it and worry about it right when it ended. I tried to convince myself it was just the struggle of Paul not wanting to come out, but deep down I knew the truth."

"You couldn't have told me that sooner, spared everyone the heartache?"

"I could've, but your mom was annoyed with you."

"Tell me about it."

"Don't go getting all smart-ass with me, especially when I'm about to say a bunch of nice things. You were always a happy kid. Bright, clever, even a little smart assed, but we both respected that. You had, how do they say, a pep in your step. And you suddenly didn't have it anymore. But I can see now you got it back. I could see it in your eyes when you looked at Will."

Sonny takes Justin's shoulder, squeezing back. "You called him Will."

"For now. I may be getting there, but your mom definitely hasn't made up her mind. And trust me when I say he hasn't made up his mind about us either. Best thing you can do is stay out of it and let us work on that."

Justin stretches his legs. "Adrienne? Did you kill the pig yourself for those sandwiches?"

Sonny grins, "I love you guys."

"We love you too." Justin gives Sonny's shoulder one more hard squeeze, then lets go. "Wish we knew why."


	61. Beautiful Boy

He dreams of storms and pain. Of fear and happiness.

Rain and wind pelts the windows, and the pain stabbing him erupts in a sobbing scream.

_Sweat and tears pour down his face--her face. Her face, her body, but his pain. _

_The room's lit up in gold, along with the crackling fire. And as the storm rages outside, another spins through her. Through him._

_Agony rips through her stomach with the next contraction. She's blinded by it, her cry is primal, and burns Sonny's throat with a passion. _

_"Push, Alice! You need to push! You're almost there!" _

_Tired, she's so tired, so weak. How is she expected to live through such agonizing pain? But all she does is grit her teeth. Almost crazy. Everything she is, everything she has, is focused on this one thing, this one miracle._

_Her baby. Her baby, Tom's baby, is fighting to be born. She bears down with what remaining strength she has left. Both her and the baby's life depend on it. _

_"I can see the head! Such beautiful hair! One more, Alice. One more push." _

_Now she's laughing. She'll take that over screaming, even if the laugh is seconds away from turning hysterical. She braces herself on her elbows, throwing her head back as more unspeakable pain crashes right through her._

_This one moment, this one act, is the greatest gift a woman is able to give. This gift, this baby, would be safe, would be loved. Would be loved for all the days of his life. _

_And with the pain, with the lightning flashing, followed by the thunder, she pushes, and pushes, and finally pushes a crying baby into the world. _

_"It's a boy! You have a handsome baby boy!" _

_All thoughts of the pain are forgotten. All the hours of sweat and blood, and agony mean nothing now, in the flash of joy. Weeping, she holds out her small arms for the tiny wiggling baby crying out in what sounds like satisfaction. _

_"My will. My beautiful little Bill. Tell Tom. Please, bring Tom in to see our son." _

_They clean up both the mother and baby first, smiling at the mother's impatience and the baby's irritated crying. _

_There's tears in Tom's eyes when he finally comes into the room. When he clasps her hand, his fingers are shaking. When he looks at the baby they've both created, his face in awe. _

_She tells him what she'd promised the second Bill was placed into her arms. _

_"We'll protect him, Tom. No matter what, we'll protect him, and love him. He's ours. Promise me you'll always be there for him." _

_"Of course I will. He's so handsome, Alice. My beautiful family. I love you." _

_"Say it. I need to hear you say it." _

_Still holding Alice's hand, Tom lays a tender finger on his son's cheek. _

_"I promise to love and care for him, to always be there for him. I swear by it."_


	62. I Won't Back Down

Justin Kiriakis takes his wife's hand as they stroll through the square. He knows they're going to the Brady Pub, looking to sneak another look at Will Horton.

"You realize, Adrienne, that this is borderline stalking and spying, right?"

"So?"

Justin has to laugh. After 31 years of being married, the woman can still make him laugh. He thinks that, above all else, is a sign you've found the one you're meant to be with.

"So you get he might not even be here? Just because you own a bar, doesn't mean you're always there."

"So we'll get a good look at the pub, and have a beer. Perfectly up front and reasonable."

"Of course."

Only time he ever says it like that is when he's pulling her leg. Adrienne seriously considers elbowing him hard, or laughing. She decides on both.

The crowds, the noise, and heat and somehow the understated elegance of the town weren't really things that appeal to her for more than a brief visit. She'll take the industrial charm, and of course the dignity, of Chicago anyday.

Of course Chicago has it's seedier side, but it's not so in your face about it. Sex is supposed to be fun and exciting--she's not a prude. But it's also supposed to be kept behind closed doors.

And still, the sound of sad music reaches deep down inside her.

If her son's determined to take up permanent residence here, she'll just have to come around. Maybe, with more time to observe and argue, she'll come around accepting the man of her son's affections.

"You'll have more than enough time to grill him at tomorrow's wedding." Justin points out.

Adrienne only sighs. They really think it's that easy. Pathetic, really. First step, clearly, is to observe the man in his own element.

She considers the neighborhood, where the bar's set up, the foot traffic, before deciding Will's choice had been a good one, and he had enough taste and sense to let the bar's exterior blend into its surroundings.

She likes the sign hanging outside, with the green circle and gold lettering. It demonstrates the pub's style, an appreciation for the original owners.

She'd managed to get out of Sonny that Will lives above the bar, and briefly wonders if there's a way she could work out a visit upstairs to snoop.

She steps inside Brady's, and gives it a long, objective look.

It's clean, which she definitely approves of. It's crowded, but not at full capacity, which prompts her business sense to come out. Too early for the night owls, she judges, too late for the afternooners.

The music coming out of the speakers is instrumental, she supposes, and she approves that as well. It's lively enough, but not too much to where people can't hear each other.

A black man in a white shirt is currently working behind the bar. Friendly face, she decides, smooth hands. A young waitress--dark haired, perky, wearing jeans that are potentially a size too tight--serves a table.

Adrienne spots what she assumes are a group of tourists from their cameras and shopping bags. Others she can safely assume are locals.

Whatever food is being served or had been, leaves a slightly spicy aroma in the air.

Will steps out of the kitchen. They lock eyes immediately, instantly recognizing each other. Arienne's lips curve in a small polite smile as she walks to the bar, Justin following behind.

"Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Kiriakis." An equally small and polite smile forms on Will's lips. "Just been walking through the square?" he asks with a glance at the bags Justin is carrying.

"Very rarely does Adrienne pass a store without finding something she has to buy."

"Now I know where Sonny gets it. Can I get you a menu?"

"We've already eaten, but thank you." Adrienne sits on a stool. "I will take a martini. Lemon drop, stirred, not shaken. Absolut, no sugar."

"And for you, Mr. Kiriakis?"

"Same for me, and it's just Justin." He takes the seat beside his wife. "You have a really nice place here. Ever have live music?" he asks, gesturing to the small stage area.

"Every other night at 10." As he starts to make the drinks, Will gives Jusin a real smile. "If you like dancing, you should come back. It's definitely music to move your feet to. You enjoying yourself so far?"

"We're really looking forward to the wedding." Adrienne comments. "Chad's practically family. And we couldn't be prouder to see Sonny making so much progress on the house."

"He's really happy there."

"Yes, he is."

Will takes two martini glasses he'd chilled while mixing. "Be so much easier on you if he could be happy in Chicago--and with the guy that broke up with him."

"Yes, it would. But we can't dictate everyone's lives, especially not our children's. Just like you can't pick who they're in love with. Are you in love with my son, Will?"

Hands completely steady, Will strains the martinis into the cold glasses. "That's something I need to talk to him about, when I'm good and ready. And these are on the house." she adds, sliding in the olives. "Hope they live up to your standards."

"Thank you." Adrienne picks up her glass, sipping it. Raises an eyebrow. "It's delicious. Always said the perfect drink is an art form, and more often than not I've been surprised and disappointed by how many bar, restaurant, or club owners don't know how to make or serve a perfect martini.

"Why do it at all if you don't plan to get it right?"

"Exactly. It's pride. In yourself, in your work, in your life. You can have flaws, they're even necessary to the human experience. But serving a guest or customer lest than the best you're humanly capable, is arrogant or sloppy. Or both, as is usually the case.

"Nothing worth doing is worth doing half assed." Will says, filling a bowl with pretzels. "If I can't make a martini, that's fine, I just step back and learn how to do it the right way. If I don't I disappoint myself as well as whoever is counting on me to know the right way."

"Good policy to have." Justin sips his own drink. "Without high standards, we settle for less than what will make us really happy and productive, and sell the people that matter to us short."

"When someone matters to me--and I'm very selective about who--I want nothing but the best for them. They may be willing to settle for anything they can get. But I'm not."

When Justin leans over, looking closely at Adrienne's martini, she frowns. "What are you up to?"

"Trying to figure out how different mine is from yours."

That makes Will laugh, making him relax his shoulders. "He's so much like you two, isn't he? Has his mom's eyes. Sees right through everyone, especially when you don't want him to. Loves the heck out of both of you, and that is very telling to me. So I have something to tell both of you."

Will leans closer. "I'm a very plain person. Strong, but still plain. My stepmother is dead weight, and is only an embarrassment I wish more than anything I could just forget about. But my grandfather was the most wonderful man. My grandma Marlena's better than most. I run my family's pub because I'm good at it--and I like it--and I don't give things I don't like the time of day."

Will messes with his hair, keeping his gaze with Adrienne's. "I'm selfish and downright headstrong, and I really don't see anything wrong with that. I'm not after his money, or yours, so let's just drop that altogether. He's the most wonderful, caring man I've ever met in my life, and I already know I'm not good enough for him. I say that knowing I'm not good enough for anybody, but it's different with him. Under that good-natured exterior, your son is even more headstrong than me, and I'm still trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do about that. But once I do, I'm telling him first. I'm sure he'll tell you the minute he knows as well."

"Now, then." Unconsciously, Will messes with the key around his neck. "Can I get you another drink?"

"We're still working on these for the moment." Adrienne tells him.

"Excuse me for a moment, then. I have another order to fill." Will moves down the bar to where his waitress is waiting with an empty tray.

"Well?" Justin asks. "He put you in your place, didn't he?"

"Indeed." Satisfied, Adrienne takes another sip. "He'll do just fine."


	63. White Dress

"I'm not nervous." Pale and jittery, Chad stands in the library while Sonny attaches the boutonniere to his best friend's tuxedo lapel.

"Try saying it 12 more times, see if you believe it then. Hold still."

"I am holding still."

"You mean besides the little seizure you're currently having? Yep, you're fit as a fiddle."

"I want to marry Abi. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. We've done nothing else but look forward to this day for months."

"That's right. Today," Sonny says soberly. "Is the start of the rest of your life."

"I think I'm gonna be sick."

"No time for that." Sonny says cheerfully. "Really close to the final fifteen. Want me to call your dad?"

"Oh hell no. He's got his hands full already. Remind me again how many people are waiting out there?"

"Last I checked, a couple hundred. And counting."

"Oh goddamnit. Why couldn't we have eloped? How the hell is a guy supposed to stand up in front of all those people and just completely change his life?"

"I think the whole tradition started to keep the groom from backing out. They'd come after him like an angry mob."

"Oh thanks for that. I was so freaked out before, but I sure as hell am not now. I need booze. Now."

Sonny just strolls over to where a painted cabinet is waiting, taking out a bottle. "Figured you needed something." He pulls out an Altoids tin. "These too. Last thing you want is to have booze on your breath when you kiss the bride. Or else she might be the one doing the running."

Sonny starts to pour, but when the door opens after a cursory knock and his mom marches in, he quickly hides the bottle behind his back.

"Aren't you two the handsome devils? Sonny, don't even think about giving more than one shot of that booze you're hiding behind your back. And make sure he uses mouthwash right after."

"Altoids is all I have."

"Fine." Smiling, she walks over to fuss with Chad's tie. "You're just nervous because it's the most important day of your life. The real cause for alarm would be if you weren't a nervous wreck. But trust me, the second you see Abigail, it'll all just fade away. I promise. She's so beautiful."

Adrienne frames had's face with her hands. "I'm so proud of you."

"Hey, what about me?" Sonny demands. "I brought the mints."

"I'll get to you. You're marrying the love of your life." Adrienne goes on. "You're surrounded by family and friends who love both of you so much. It's a beautiful day, and your best friend has seen to it you have a beautiful wedding venue. Now take a shot of that whiskey, take a deep breath, and get your butt out there so you can get married."

"Yes ma'am. I think I love you, Mrs. Kiriakis."

"Don't I know it. I love you too, but I'm not gonna kiss you and ruin my makeup. One drink, Sonny. If he shows up drunk, I'm holding you personally responsible."

Later, Sonny thinks his mom was right, like always. When he stands by Chad and Abi, a dream in white, walking down the aisle, Sonny feels the nerves drain right out of his best friend. He sees the wide, wide smile stretch over Chad's face, hear him say softly, "There's my beautiful girl."

He finds his own gaze going over the rows of people, meeting Will's. And you're mine, he thinks. This time around we're doing it right.

So he stands in the garden, with the old mansion rising over the lawn, watching his best friend and cousin get married.

When they kiss, when they turn around to be announced as husband and wife, cheers erupt, much more freeing and celebratory than the applause Sonny's used to.

He feels his own smile get bigger, almost as big as Chad's.

The music starts up almost immediately. When the photographer is down to just the bride and groom, Sonny breaks free through the crowds to find Will.

He's wearing a tuxedo. A very formal tuxedo that's very flattering on him. Just above his chest, hangs the bronze hourglass necklace Tom had once given to Alice.

"I was wondering if I'd ever get to see you wear it."

"It's a special necklace." Will says. "So I save it for special occasions. It was a very beautiful wedding, Sonny. You did an incredible job getting this place ready. You're a very good friend."

"I have a lot of good qualities, which makes you a very lucky guy. I missed you these past few days."

"We've both been really busy."

"Stay." Sonny catches Will's hand, seeing a refusal and excuses in Will's eyes. "Will, please stay."

"Maybe. There's a few people you should be talking to."

"They're all talking amongst themselves. Where's Marlena?"

Will scowls. "Your mom must've carted her off somewhere."

"Want me to track them down, set Marlena free?"

Pride stiffens Will's spine, as well as his voice. "My grandma can do just fine against your mom any day of the week."

"Oh really?" Amused, Sonny narrows his eyes. "If it turns into a fist fight, my money's on my mom. She's got one hell of a backhand. Why don't we grab some champagne and find them? See how bad it is."

"If she insults my grandma--"

"She wouldn't." Amusement gone, Sonny shakes Will's shoulders. "What're you thinking, Will? If she's talking to Marlena, she wants to get to know her better."

"Which is also why she dragged your dad to my place too, I take it? So she could get to know me better?"

"They were at your place?"

"The pub, yeah." Annoyed for being annoyed, Will reaches out to take a flute of champagne off of a passing tray. "She came to check it out, as well as me. She got quite an eyeful, and a damn good martini. And I set her straight right off the bat."

This is enough to send Sonny into a jittery panic at the thought of the two most important people in his life butting heads. "What does that even mean?"

"I said what I needed to say. That's it. We understand each other just fine now."

"How about you fill me in so I can understand you just fine?"

"Now's not the time or place."

"Then we're going to find the time and place."

Because he can hear the hardness in Sonny's voice, Will shrugs. Then smiles, tracing a finger down Sonny's cheek. "Now don't go getting all worked up. We're in the middle of a party. We can fight anytime, anywhere."

"Fine, we'll schedule the fight for later." Sonny catches Will's chin with his hand. "I don't know who you're underestimating, Will. Me, my parents, or yourself. Let me know when you've made up your mind."

Then he leans in, brushing his lips over Will's. "See you soon."


	64. Will You Come and See the Light?

The reception moves to the ballroom, still somehow managing to spill out onto the lawn. For the first time in decades, the mansion is filled with music and laughter. Children racing, crying babies, couples flirting and friends gossiping fill the amazing room, relaxing under the shade of giant umbrellas on the tables around the gardens or sitting on the veranda.

Sonny likes to picture the mansion absorbing all the positive energy, all the way into the dark corners of the rooms he keeps locked.

"Sonny." Abi lays a hand on his arm. "May I have this dance?"

"Did someone murder Chad?" He leads her out on the floor. "Because that's the only reason I'd know of that he'd let you be even a foot away from him. He kisses her on the cheek before taking her into his arms. "Not that I blame him. When the most beautiful woman in the room is also your wife, you don't let her go."

"Oh, Sonny." She rests her cheek on his. "If I wasn't head over heels in love with my husband, and you were straight, I'd scoop you up lickety split."

"If you ever change your mind, give me a call."

"I just want to thank you again for everything you've done to make my special day perfect. I know my mom, brother and I have been driving you crazy over the past few weeks."

"Has it really only been a few weeks?" Sonny laughs. "I say it was worth every hour I had to spend hiding so you guys couldn't find me."

"I'm so, so happy, and I love you. I love everything about today." Abi says with a laugh. "Sonny, there's something unfinished about this mansion. I don't think I even believed in that stuff, but...I can feel it. Whenever I'm here, I can feel it. I can feel it right now."

Sonny can feel her trembling against him, rubbing a hand over her back to help her relax it away. "You don't need to think about it today. You don't need to think about anything today."

"I'm scared for you. Something...is really not finished. And part of it, I just know it, it's somehow my fault."

"Your fault?" Sonny eases back so he can see her face, pulling her toward one of the corners. "What are you talking about?"

"I wish I knew what I was talking about. I just know how it feels. I did something, or I didn't do something for you. It doesn't make any sense at all, but it feels so strong. Knowing I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most. I guess I'm scared something bad's gonna happen all over again if something isn't put right. So, as crazy as I know it sounds, I just want you to know how sorry I am, so unbelievably sorry for whatever bad thing it is I did."

"It's okay." Sonny kisses her forehead. "There's no way you could've known. Whatever you did, you couldn't have known. And really, this isn't a day of regrets. It's all about moving forward."

"You're right. Just...be careful." she says, right as Chad walks up and pretends to swing a punch at Sonny.

"I believe that's my wife you're hiding from me. Go find your guy."

"Good idea."

He tracks down Will, finding him in a cluster of people. The red of the boutonniere is like a red beacon over his black tuxedo. He imagines his reaction to Will, transmitting clearly enough that he can see that knowing look take over Will's eyes as Sonny steps towards him.

Sonny turns slightly, holding out a hand to Will's grandma. "Marlena, would you care to dance with me?"

"I'm never one to turn down a dance with a handsome young man."

"You look beautiful." Sonny tells her as they take the floor.

"Weddings make me feel so young. I had a wonderful talk with your mother."

"Oh did you?"

"You were wondering." she says with a chuckle. "I can tell you we got along just fine. And she was definitely happy when I told her I saw you were brought up right the first time I ever met you. And then she won me over by telling me the same thing about Will. Then we just gossiped, about boring stuff women talk about at weddings, with the exception of when we agreed you are a very handsome young man. And men should find more excuses to wear a tuxedo."

"I could become a butler. But the best ones get better tips when they act snooty, and I'm pretty sure I couldn't stoop that low."

"Then I'll just have to wait until I'm officiating your own wedding to see you all dressed up."

"Yeah." Sonny looks past her head, but Will's already moved on. "This one worked out just fine. I did panic just a little last night over the storm, worried it was gonna mess everything up."

"What storm? There wasn't any storm last night."

"Yeah there was. A really strong one. You can't seriously tell me you slept through it."

"I was up all the way to midnight." She watches his face. "Finishing the work on this ensemble. Then I got up again around four when I couldn't sleep. I saw the light on here then. Wondering what you were doing up so early. It was a clear night, Sonny."

"I...guess I had to have dreamed about a storm. Pre-wedding jitters." But he wasn't up ar 4. He wasn't up at all, as far as he knew, after midnight--when he was walking through the mansion to turn all the lights off before going to bed.

Dreams, he thinks. Wind and rain, lightning flashing. Fire in the fireplace. Pain, sweat, dehydration. Blood.

A woman's hands, a woman's voice--Abi's?--giving comfort, encouragement.

He remembers now, so clearly, and stops right in the middle of their dance.

He'd given birth to a baby. He'd actually experienced the miracle of childbirth.

Oh. My. God.

"Hon? Sonny? Come outside." Gently, Marlena guides him off the floor. "Let's get you some air."

"Yeah. Women love to swoon, don't they?"

"What?"

"Nothing." He's completely embarrassed, in awe, at what had happened to him in his own dream. Inside, he supposes, his own memories.

"You can go back inside." he tells her. "I'm just gonna take a walk, clear my head."

"You remembered something, didn't you?"

"A complete miracle." he murmurs. "Do me a favor and remind me to get my mom the biggest present. I have no idea how women are able to do it even once. She did it twice. Incredible." he mumbles, then heads down. "Fucking incredible."

Sonny walks all the way around the mansion, before finally coming back inside for a tall glass of icy water. He uses it to wash down three extra-strength aspirin, hoping to cut back on the pounding headache that had appeared the second he remembered his dream.

He can hear the music spilling out from the ballroom. He can feel the vibrations under his feet where everyone is dancing.

He should really get back, performing his duties as best man and host. All he wants to do is face plant onto his bed, close his eyes, and slip into sweet unconsciousness.

"Sonny." Will comes in through the bedroom door, shutting it behind him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Headache."

"You've been gone for a whole hour. People are asking questions."

"I'll come out." But all he does is sit on the edge of his bed. "In just a minute."

Will crosses over to him. "How bad is it?"

"I've had way worse than this."

"Try lying down for a few minutes."

"I'm not napping on my best friend's wedding day--not unless you plan on keeping me company."

"Very tempting. Seeing a guy in a tux always makes me want to take it off of him."

"Butlers must love you."

"See, you just made a dumb joke, so you can't be feeling that bad."

"Considering I gave birth less than 24 hours ago, I'd say I'm freaking fantastic."

Will purses his lips. "How much have you had to drink already, Sonny?"

"Nowhere nearly as much as I plan to. Remember your theory about how I'm Alice Horton? I think you might actually be onto something. I dreamed last night I was in that room a few doors down, in that bed I keep seeing in there--the one that doesn't exist. I wasn't seeing Alice on the bed, right about to give birth. I was living it, and I can tell you with 100% certainty it's no picnic. Anyone who doesn't go for an epidural is completely insane. No amount of medieval torture can ever compare."

"You were dreaming about being Alice, and you--."

"It's wasn't a dream, Will, and I think I was in that room when I had that--flash, or hallucination, or whatever we're calling it. I remember the storm--how it sounded, being so terrified, how all my focus was on birthing that baby."

Sonny pauses, replaying the words. "Jesus, that sounds so weird."

"Yeah, it did." Will sits next to him.

"I heard other voices too. Other women trying to help me. I could see their faces--especially the really young one. The one close to my age--Alice's age. I can still feel the sweat on my face, and the indescribable fatigue. Then that feeling, at the very height when it felt like I was being ripped apart. Bearing down, then feeling so relieved, so numb, the wonder of bringing a baby into the world. And the flash of love and pride when they put that beautiful boy into my arms."

Sonny looks down at his hands, while Will keeps staring at him. "I can still see that baby, Will, clear as anything, I can see him. All red and puffy and really mad. Dark eyes, blond hair. A tiny mouth. Tiny, skinny fingers, and i remember thinking: There's ten of them, and he's perfect. My beautiful Bill."

He looks at Will now. "William "Bill" Horton, your great-grandfather, the one you're named after. Bill," Sonny repeats. "Our son."


	65. Love Him or Leave Him

Their son. Will can't blow it off, and something deep inside him mourns. But he can't voice it, not with a heavy heart and head.

Will throws himself back into the crowds, the music, the laughing. This is now, he thinks. Now's what matters.

He's alive, with the warm evening air on his skin, under the white moonlight with the scent of flowers and gardens crowding around him.

Lilies, magnolia, chrysanthemum, and wild chamomile.

Roses. His favorite had always been the lavender rose. He keeps them, always, whenever he could get them, in his room. First in the servants' chambers, then their bedroom. Clipped secretly from the family garden.

And for the nursery, there were flowers. Bunches of wildflowers for their little Bill.

Terrified, Will pushes those thoughts, those images, away. Grabbing someone randomly, he charms them into a dance.

Remembering doesn't change anything. The past is dead and gone. He doesn't want it or the future. It's impulsive and cruel more often than not. It's the right now that's meant to be lived in, celebrated. Even manipulated.

So when Sonny's mother offers him dance, Will smiles.

They dance among the other couples, before Will finally says. "Adrienne, you're a wonderful dancer."

"Thank you. Now tell me what's wrong."

Will keeps his cheerful expression on his face. "What could possibly be wrong at a time and place like this?"

"That's the thing, isn't it. Why don't we grab some more champagne, and we can talk about it?"

She doesn't give Will a chance to say no. Like mother, like son, Will thinks as Adrienne leads him to the bar, ordering two flutes, then leading him outside.

"Perfect night." Will says, breathing it in. "Would you look at those gardens? It's hard to believe what they looked like just a few months ago. Did Sonny tell you about his workers?"

"His workers, Eli. Marlena and Abi. About ghosts, and you."

"Almost bit off the whole thing." Will sips his campagne, wandering over. People still dance on the lawn. A group of women sit under one of the white tables under the moon, some holding sleeping babies on their shoulders, some holding children in their laps.

"He was bored in Chicago."

Intrigued, Will looks away, the charm of the lights, and looks at Adrienne. "He was bored?"

"Not happy, climbing the walls, but mostly bored. With his job, his boyfriend, his life in general. The only thing that's given him any real joy was redoing the mansion. I was worried he'd just be getting by, married to the wrong guy, in a job he doesn't love, living life that wasn't nearly satisfying enough. But I should've known better."

Adrienne leans back, looking through the open doors into the ballroom. "His mind and heart were never set on the path his mother and I set out for him. We didn't want to see the truth, so for the longest time, we didn't."

"You just wanted what was best for him. People think what's best for themselves is also for the people they love."

"You're right. It's in Sonny's nature to do whatever he can to make the people he loves happy. He loves you."

When Will doesn't say anything, Adrienne turns to Will. "You called him headstrong, but it's more than that. When Sonny gets it in his mind to do something, to strive for, his mind is dead set on that one track. He's not going to be dissuaded by roadblocks, excuses or halfhearted protests. If you don't love him back, Will, if you don't want to really be with him, break his heart. Break his heart and shatter it to pieces. Then leave."

"I don't want to break his heart. That's the whole problem."

"He honestly thought he was incapable of loving anyone. He told me that when he walked away from Paul. He said he thought he'd loved Paul, he really did, but when Paul turned him down, he realized he didn't. Not like that. Now he does, and he's so much better for it. You've already made such an impact, a significant one. Now you have to either be with him, or walk away from him. To try and have it both ways wouldn't be fair, and you're not a cruel person."

Will reaches up, closing the fingers around the key on its chain, then drops it against the hourglass on his chest. "He's not what I had in mind. I wasn't actively seeking him out."

She smiles politely, patting Will's hand. "Life is like that, isn't it? Some are a real kick in the pants."

Then she leans over to kiss his cheek. "I'll see you around." she says, leaving him by himself.


	66. Giving You the Best That I Got

The party goes on for two more hours after the bride and groom are sent off in a shower of confetti--which Sonny's positive he's gonna find all over his lawn, his clothes, even his food for the next few months or so.

The music is still going strong, and the guests are still happy. In the early hours of the morning, some finally head towards their cars. Others are carried away, despite not being child sized.

Sonny stands on this front steps as he watches the last of them pull away. The eastern sky pales, gently pushing the darkness away. Even as he still stands there, he watches a star blink out.

The morning is waking up.

"You have to be tired by now." Will calls from the veranda up above.

"Nope." Sonny keeps looking at the sky. "I know I should be, but I'm not."

"You're gonna need at least a week to clean all this up."

"Wrong again. General Deveraux and her cronies are coming back tomorrow to do it themselves. I'm under strict orders to stay out of their way, and that's one direct order I have no problem listening to. I didn't think you'd be staying."

"Neither did I."

Sonny turns now, looking up at Will. "So why did you?"

"I don't know. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do about you, Sonny. I swear on my life, I don't know. Guys have never been a problem for me. Maybe I've been a problem for them." Will says with a faint smile. "But you're the first guy to cause one."

Sonny starts to move up to Will. "None of them were in love with you."

"No, none of them were in love with me. Wanted me. They lusted after me, but that's easy. You can be careless with lust. And I'll be completely honest. Most of the time, I was okay being careless. Not just sex, but the familiar routine. The challenge. Whatever you want to call a relationship that really isn't one. When the music is finally over, or there's no challenge, there's plenty of cuts and burns, but no one got seriously hurt."

"But what we have isn't just a challenge."

"I've already seriously hurt you."

"Just cuts and burns, Will." Sonny stops, now face-to-face with Will. "Cuts and burns."

"What do you see when you look at me? Just someone, something that used to be there. You can't force the living on the dead."

I can see you just fine. But there's something in both of us that can't just be ignored or thrown away. Maybe something we need to make right before we can really move on."

Sonny reaches into his pocket, pulling out Tom's lapel watch. "I gave this to you once before, decades ago. I think it's time I gave it back to you."

Will's fingers go cold at the very idea of touching it. "If it's true, don't you get that it still ended in death and grief and tragedy? We can't change what already happened. Why risk history repeating itself?"

"Because it has to. Because we're better this time." Sonny opens Will's hand, dropping the lapel watch into Will's open palm, closing his fingers over it. "Because if we don't make this right, it never stops."

"Okay." Will pins the lapel watch to the lapel of his jacket, then pulls off the hourglass around his neck. "I gave this to you once before. You should have it back."

The second Sonny touches it, the clock that used to be inside the DiMera mansion starts to bong.

"It's midnight." Sonny says perfectly calm. "It's about to strike 12 times." And he looks at his phone, where the clock is clearly on display. "Midnight." he repeats, showing it to well. "Check the watch."

Will's fingers aren't as steady as he holds it up. "Oh my God." Will breathes when he sees both hands pointing straight up. "Why?"

"I think we're about to find out."

"I have to go inside." Sonny looks back, towards the doorway, in the general direction of the makeshift nursery. "I have to go to the nursery. The baby…"

Even as he speaks, they bot can hear the crying.

"Sonny, let's just go. Just jump in the car and get the hell away from here."

But Sonny's already moving back inside. "The baby's crying. He's hungry. He needs me. Tom's parents are asleep. I always go in early when he's not here. I hate sitting with them in the smoking room after dinner. I can feel how much she hates me."

Sonny's voice is different, Will suddenly realizes as he follows Sonny. "Sonny."

"Henderson will walk him, or change him, but my little Bill needs his mother. I don't like having him two doors down." he says as he hurries down the hallway. "But Mrs. Adelaide always gets her way. Not always." Sonny corrects, a smile in his voice. "If she did, I'd be fish food instead of married to Tom. He'll be home tomorrow. I miss him so much."

As he starts towards the door, his pace slows down, and Will can hear him breathe rapidly. "I have to go in." Now it's Sonny's voice again, edged with real fear. "I have to go inside. I need to see."

Gathering all the courage he has, Will takes Sonny's hand. "Then we'll go in together."


	67. Bleeding Love

Sonny's hands are shaking. The cold filling the air cuts right to the bone, and nausea hits his stomach, rising in his throat. Forcing it back down, he shoves the door open.

Sonny stumbles, and even as Will tries to catch him, falls on his knees.

"He's coming in, drunk. I don't want him in here, but he's not going away. Everyone says how similar he is to Tom, but they've never looked in his eyes. I need to make him go away, away from my baby. I wish Henderson didn't go to meet Michael. I don't want to be alone with Santo. He scares me, but I don't want him to know that."

Sonny's eyes are glazed over, smoke behind glass on a face that's pale as a corpse.

"God, Sonny, please, come back. Come back to me." Will squeezes his hand hard enough to feel bones against bones.

"He's grabbing me, but I got away." Sonny's voice is breathless. He's still on his knees, a broken man with sun streaked hair, wearing a tuxedo with a loose tie. A man with a dead woman's memories, a woman's terror crashing inside him.

"But I can't leave my baby. I'm grabbing a fire poker. I'll kill him myself if I have to, if he goes anywhere near me or my baby. Oh god, oh my God."

As Will's knees give out, Will sinks on the floor right next to Sonny, trying to wrap his arms around him.

"He's stronger than me. I'm screaming so loudly, but nobody ever comes. He's been drinking and he's crazy. He's crazy and he's been drinking. He's knocking me down, and he rips my clothes. I can't get away. My baby's crying, but I can't reach him. I can't stop Santo."

"Oh my God." Shaking, Will tries to hold Sonny, rocking him back and forth. "No, no, no, no, no."

"He's raping me." Fire burns him in right in the gut. Pain, so much pain, the terror. My god, so much terror. "I'm calling for help. I'm calling for you, but you're not here."

Sonny's voice is wracked with tears. "You didn't come when I needed you."

"Stop, stop, stop." Is all Will can say as he clings to Sonny.

"He's hurting me, but I'm fighting him. I'm trying to stop him, but he just doesn't stop. I'm so scared, so terrified, but I already know he's not doing it because he wants me. It's because he hates you."

Sonny turns his head, those dark eyes soaked. "He hates you so much. And because I'm your wife, he has to ruin me. The way he always ruined everything when you were young. I'm begging him to stop, but he won't. He's trying to make me shut up, but I won't. I won't. He's closing his hands around my throat."

It makes Sonny double over, that awful pressure, the terrifying loss of air. "I can't breathe. I can't breathe. My baby needs me, and I can't breathe. He's killing me. While my baby is crying in his crib. Our baby. While he's still in me. He breaks me like a toy that belongs to his brother."

Sonny lifts his head, looking at Will now. When he speaks, his voice is so laced with grief it's a wonder they both didn't choke on it. "You never came. I called for you, and you never came."

"I'm so, so sorry."

"She's coming." Sonny gets shakily to his feet. "She's coming and seeing what he did to me. She's looking down at me like I'm just a stain on the rug she needs to clean up before guests will see it."

Sonny's eyes are now dry, narrowing at the doors slamming. "Her house, her children, and I was the Grayson trash that invaded their home. I watched her turn her nose down at me. It's like a dream, that look. I'm watching her tell Santo to carry me out, towards the bedroom, while she cleans the blood, and the wax from the candle. He's taking my body out, but I'm watching her walk over to my sweet baby boy, i can hear her thoughts as she wonders if she should smother my baby. She's seriously considering it, and I know if she even tries, there's enough strength in me left to strike her down like lightning."

Sonny walks back to the door. "She thinks I was weak, but she couldn't be more wrong. They may have taken my life, but they'll never be rid of me."

"Sonny, stop."

"No, I can't stop." Sonny walks down the hall, towards Alice's bedroom. "He put me on the bed, right here. And wept for me. No, not for me, for himself. What's going to happen to him? I was violated and murdered by his own hands, but he's thinking about himself. Still thinking about himself. Because he's still in this house. Him and Adelaide. Walking and waiting in their own man made hell."

Sonny crosses over to where the armoire used to be, opening the door he sees in his mind. "They're taking my clothes.I had my dress in there for the party. I was so proud of it. I wanted to be so beautiful for you. Make you proud to be my husband. She drops the necklace, but she didn't see. She's having Santo wrap me up, with a suitcase of my things. They're getting things to weigh me down, and carrying me out."

"It wasn't easy. Even by the light of the moon, the cold, it's hard carrying all of that. Santo made himself sick, but she's not having it. They're going to say I ran off with someone else. They'd let people spread the rumor about my baby being a bastard, and passed off as yours. She's telling Santo exactly how it's going to be as they tie up my body and push me into the river."

Sonny looks back at Will. "And you believed them."

"No." Will's crying now, shaking his head. For Sonny, for Alice, for himself, for Tom. "No."

"Not initially. You were scared for me. You looked everywhere for me. I tried to reach out to you, but you wouldn't let me. Because a part of you was already beginning to believe their lies. I loved you so much. With all my heart, soul, my everything. I died for you."

"I couldn't stop any of it. I wasn't here when I should've been."

"No, you weren't here that night. And you were never really here since. Not for me, or our baby. You broke your promise, that vow you made to me in that bed the night he was born. Not even death compares to knowing that's what broke us."

"How?"

"You promised to love our baby, to always be there for him. I never strayed from you, Tom. You need to know that."

"I do." Will closes his hand over the lapel watch in his pocket, feeling the weight, the grief, and the sadness.

"How could you abandon him? How could you turn your back on him? You were everything he had. You promised me!"

"I don't know. I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't as courageous or as honest as you. Maybe...I think you were the one who made me me, and when I lost you, I don't know how to stay me."

"You had Bill."

"I loved you too much, and him not enough. Please forgive me. Forgive me for what I've done, what I wish I'd done. There's no going back and fixing it."

Will pulls out the lapel watch, holding it face up on the palm of his hand. "No matter how many times sand passes through our fingers, it always runs out. If I could, I'd never leave you again. I'd take you and our baby away from here. I'd do anything to take back what happened to you."

"I loved you. My heart ached every moment since they forced me away from you. With grief, then with hope, and then sorrow. You chose to die, Tom, instead of living. You chose loneliness over loving again. How am I supposed you forgive you when you can't forgive yourself? Until you take that step, they win, and the mansion that was supposed to be ours still keeps them here. We'll never be free, until you decide."

Sonny turns, opening the doors to the veranda and walking outside.

The door slamming makes Wil flinch. It's almost, Will thinks, like schadenfreude.

He purposely ignores it, and steps outside, then takes a deep breath.

"Sonny."


	68. Sullen Girl

Sonny's leaning on the railing, staring out the first signs of morning. "Yeah. I'm just deciding on whether I need an exorcism, a shrink, or cash in and see if I can star in a revival of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest."

Sonny rolls his shoulders, like he's trying to shrug off an annoying eight. "But I'll settle for a margarita."

Cautiously, Will steps behind him. "I'll make both of us one." he starts, starting to lay a hand on Sonny's back. But before Will can, Sonny sidesteps out of the way, leaving Will just standing there with his hand out.

"I don't need to be coddled. I'm still a bit vulnerable over here. Package deal with rape and murder, I guess." Forcing his hands into his pockets, Sonny walks downstairs.

Will waits for a moment, struggling to find his balance, then follows him to the kitchen. "Let me make them. I'm the professional."

"I am perfectly capable of making my own goddamn drink."

It stings when he snatches the bottle of tequila out of Will's hand. Like he just slapped him. "Fine, make your own fucking drink. Live your own fucking life too, while you're at it."

Will turns on his heels, and when Sonny grabs Will's arm, Will lashes out with his own slap.

At the sound of his hand hitting Sonny's face, the clock strikes again, the doors slamming.

Gleeful cold once again settles in the house.

"Have you ever been raped?"

Will forcefully pulls his arm out of his grasp. "No."

"Haven't been strangled to death, either, have you?" Forgetting about the margarita, Sonny takes a long pull straight from the bottle. "Let me just fill you in. It'll put you in quite a mood."

The anger bleeds out of Will. "Don't drink it straight up like that. You're gonna make yourself sick."

"I'm sick now. I need a boiling hot shower."

"Then go take one. You'll feel a lot better. I'm gonna make some coffee. Would you please just let me?" Will snaps before Sonny can argue. "Maybe it'll help calm both of us down."

"Fine. Do whatever you want." Sonny stomps up the stairs.

Will stays put for a moment, just sitting because his legs are still shaking. Then he takes the lapel watch out of his pocket, studying the face. The second hand keeps ticking away. But the time never goes past midnight.

Putting it away, he gets up to brew the coffee.

He carries it up, along with neatly cut pieces of toast. A common snack his grandmother made whenever he was sick. Sonny's sitting on the side of the bed, wearing a very beat up pair of sweats. His hair's still wet, skin red from aggressive scrubbing. Will sets the tray down beside him.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No." When Will pours a mug of coffee, Sonny takes it, trying to warm up his hands. Despite the heat from the shower, he still feels the chill in his bones.

"I wasn't just seeing it or remembering it. I could feel it. The terror, the pain, being violated. The mortification. More than that--like it's not bad enough already--part of me was still in tact. That part, the strong part, was utterly useless, watching a terrified woman being raped and strangled to death. I seriously can't explain it."

"You don't have to. I felt it too. Not as strongly or clearly as you, but...when you looked at me, when she looked at me through your eyes, I felt the sadness, the remorse. So much guilt. Drink your coffee."

Sonny lifts the mug compliantly. "It's good. Pretty strong."

"Strong coffee and toast. Works like a charm." Will crawls into the bed behind Sonny, kneeling and kneading Sonny's shoulders.

"She was so much stronger than him. It's not entirely his fault. He was raised soft. But he loved her, Sonny. I've never been more sure about anything. Even without knowing how terribly she died, he still blamed himself. For not being there, not giving her every part of himself."

"He abandoned the baby."

There's such a decisiveness in Sonny's voice. "He did. He absolutely did." Will replies. "And though that was so wrong, just like taking his own life and orphaning their baby was, he had a better life because of it. He was surrounded by people who loved him, who cherished his mother's memory. He never would've had that, not at the DiMera mansion."

"He had every right to it. Tom should've seen to that."

Will rests a cheek on top of Sonny's head. "You can still forgive him."

"I can't forgive what I don't understand."

"Of course not. How is a man like you supposed to understand a man like that? But I do. I completely understand a man who'd run off with someone instead of standing up to his parents. One who'd take her back to a house full of resentment and darkness instead of building a real home. One who'd let himself fall apart enough to drown himself instead of live with the pain and raise his baby with the love and compassion that he never got himself. He wanted to be more than himself. With her, he would've. You shouldn't hate him, Sonny. You should feel sorry for him."

"I might. It's hard. So much of her despair is still in me." Alice's, Sonny thinks, and so much of his own.

"Can you close your eyes?"

"I don't think so."

"Try? I need to get changed." Will slides off the bed, then lifts the tray and sets it aside. "Try for a bit. I won't be gone long."

Sonny doesn't try to stop him. It's probably for the best he's alone right now. He lays back, staring at the ceiling as the morning birds start singing.

Alice had been so broken, he thinks. Heart and body.

He's feeling exactly the same way.

He must have dozed off, because when he opens his eyes again, the sun is out. Still early, he decides, but Mrs. Devereaux and her cronies would be showing up not too long from now armed with mops and brooms and who knows what else.

Maybe that's exactly what the place needs. It's still his place. He's not giving it up. Whatever happened in the past, whatever it told him, he's not giving it up.

And God help him, he's not giving Will up either.


	69. If I Die Young

Sonny sits up, scowling, and sees Will sitting in a chair across the room. He's wearing jeans and a soft white shirt. There's three small bouquets in his lap.

"What do you say we go for a drive?" Will asks Sonny.

"Okay."

"Don't forget to put on a shirt and shoes."

"Where are we going?"

"I'll explain once we're on the road."

Will drives, and Sonny volunteers to have the flowers in his lap.

"I wanted to leave flowers for him. For Bill."

As his ancestor, Will thinks, as his father. "Thought you might want to pay your own visit."

Sonny doesn't reply.

"My grandma told me." Will goes on, "how Bill used to go to the cemetery once a year. He'd bring him flowers. This morning, when I came to change my clothes, she told me where in the mausoleum he is, and we picked these ourselves. I want to take flowers to Tom too."

Sonny picks up one of the bouquets, "Your token of sympathy?"

"If that's all we're actually able to do."

"What about the others?"

"Bill took them to his mother once a year too. I think a part of him always knew. He went to the river, every year on his birthday, and dropped flowers in the water. Grandma told me the exact spot."

Will drives a little fast, then finally slows down once they reach the cemetery. "I know you still can't fully understand him, understand me. If you don't want to do this, you can just wait here. I wouldn't blame you."

"Why are you doing it at all?"

"He's in me. Through family, and so much more. If I can find a way to accept who raised me, then I can find a way to accept this. To live with it."

Will stops the car, taking two of the bouquets. "It's a bit of a walk from here. Shouldn't take too long."

"I'm going with you."

Sonny gets out, but doesn't--as Will as expecting--reach for Will's hand. They make their way past the other graves, the statues, and the shadows cast by crosses.

Will stops right in front of a simple grave. There's so many names surrounding him, with just names and dates. His great grandfather is resting here, and so many others that are a part of him. But today, he's only here for one.

Will clutches tightly to the flowers. William "Bill" Horton, he reads. Blood of my blood, heart of my heart.

"My grandma, she told me Bill was a happy man, he had a good life. He was content. I know that doesn't completely make up for what happened, but if anything had gone differently...Well, to be honest, I don't see how I'd be standing right here next to you on this day."

Will starts to lay down the flowers, and Sonny closes his hands over his on the stems. They place them in front of the slab--the baby, the boy, the old man, together.

"He's far away from here." Will manages, voice thick, vision blurry as he turns away.

They walk through the sunlight, through the shadows, in complete silence.

The Horton Mausoleum is fairly big, big enough to have more than one crypt for all of their family members. The doors are well cared for, and on top of it is a fierce angel, holding a spear to caution all who enter.

"Cheerful." Sonny comments. "None went gently into that good night."

But instead of going in, they keep moving until they reach another.

He takes a glance around, before seeing the only concrete slab in the entire place. The plaque reads

Thomas Horton 1918-1941

"What is he doing here?"

"He was never forgiven." Will explains. "Not for marrying her, their baby, or his shameful death. They said it was an accidental drowning, but everyone knew it was suicide. But even when Adelaide wouldn't let him be buried in the mausoleum, she still wanted him buried on consecrated grounds. To do anything else would've made them look bad."

Sonny looks at the small building. "Bitch."

"He didn't have any grandparents, like me, to care about him. To kiss it all better. He had a stepbrother who hated him just for existing. He had money and power, education and privilege. But there wasn't love. Until Alice. And they took her too."

Will lays down the flowers for him. "He tried the best he could, but it ultimately wasn't enough."

"You're 10x a better man than he ever was. Smart, and resilient."

"I hope you're right. And I hope he can rest easy sooner than later. The flowers aren't gonna last long in this heat, but...well, it is what it is."

Will walks away without another word. Sonny stays behind for another moment, staring at the slab and flowers. Then, on complete impulse, takes a single flower out of the bouquet, and lays it on top of the tomb.

Will puts on his sunglasses, eyes starting to tear. "That was nice of you."

"It is what it is." This time, Sonny does take Will's hand.

They don't speak on the drive back. Nor does Marlena come out when Will parks in front of her apartment. Sonny atys silent as Will leads the way towards the river. SIlent, as Sonny remembers the way in the night, with a chill in the air, the moonlight, the hooting of an owl. And the pants of a killer and his accomplice.

"We can go back. You're looking really pale."

"No." Sweat pours down Sonny's back despite the chill under his skin. "I have to do this."

"Not much further."

There's flowers springing up along the edge of the narrow, beaten path. He focuses on them, their color and beauty. But when Will stops on the bank, Sonny's completely out of breath and disoriented.

"It happened here. Right here."

"I know. Bill came here, to this exact spot. He always knew, in his heart." This time Will hands Sonny the bouquet, pulling one single flower out.

Sonny lets the flowers fall into the river, watching the color and beauty, floating on the dirty water. "How many get to put flowers on their own grave?"

"I'm so sorry." Tears fall down Will's cheeks. "I'm so, so sorry." Will kneels, tossing the flower where it'll drift by itself. Will grabs Sonny's hand. "I will never be able to stop apologizing for hurting you."

"Stop." Sonny pulls him to his feet, into his arms. "It's okay."

"He didn't have hope. I didn't. Too much sadness, not enough hope. Not then, and not now."

"I think there's been enough grieving. Then, and now." Sonny tips Will's face, and says what's still inside him--inside Alice--the exact moment they'd taken flowers to Bill. "I forgive you."

"You're more forgiving than Alice was."

"Maybe. I'll bet anything that's why we keep coming back to each other. Giving us a chance to fix what we broke."

"Or break it all over again. I have something else I want to give you. Not here. Back at the mansion. It's only fitting I give it to you there."

"Okay." Sonny kisses Will's hand. "We're going to be okay."

"Getting there. If you don't mind, can we walk back? I need to sort myself out."

"Good idea."


	70. So Are the Days of Our Lives

"There's something I want to ask you to do." Will says as they start walking again. "I know the square's already named after them, but I want a plaque set up for them. A few plaques, actually. One for Tom and Alice, by the bench, one by the river, and one maybe by the pond. I think it's time everyone was together."

"I think they already are." Or pretty close, Sonny thinks. Ridiculously close, because there's now a lightness in his heart he wasn't expecting to feel again. "But the markers are still a nice memory. We'll put one by the bench, put it there. And a tree, together."

WIll nods. "Maybe."

"Like the one she liked so much." Sonny nods. "Sometimes when you put the puzzle pieces back together, and sometimes you have to change them to make them fit. We can do both. Then when we have our kids, we can have picnics right next to them, and tell them the whole story."

Sonny waits, then says, "You're not pushing me away."

Will shakes his head.

"Sonny, you really know how to wear someone down. Looks like the cleanup crew is here."

Sonny looks, wincing when he sees the cars pulling in. "Won't this be a real party? We can sneak up the stairs and lock ourselves in my room. I feel like I could hibernate."

"Bedroom works, but I only have an hour. Then I have to get to work."

"I have an hour to kill." Sonny replies, then taps a finger to his lips as they creep up the stairs. "Ever had the chance to roll around naked in bed with a house full of men and women scrubbing floors right outside?"

"No, and I don't plan to, either."

"Killjoy."

"Sonny. No don't close the doors. Just hold on--."

"That's exactly what I'm doing." Sonny says when he traps Will in his arms. "Holding on. And God, it feels wonderful. I've missed you so much." he murmurs, and understands it's just as much Alice as himself who's holding on so tightly.

A circle, nearly made whole again, Sonny thinks. And this time, it's unbreakable.

She's been defeated, Sonny realizes. Adelaide. It's all spiraling out of her control.

"I have some things I need to say."

"I don't want to talk." Sonny plants his lips on Will's in a soft kiss.

"Lay with me, Will. Just lie down with me. I can't tell you how much I've missed getting to hold you."

"I need to be vertical for this." Will pulls away, standing in the sunlight. "I've done so many things up until now, and that's all been fine with me. You've thrown a wrench in all of them, messing them up, pissing me off, and completely turned my whole life on its head with what used to be, what is, and what might be. I've never been a fan of what might be, Sonny."

"What about what will be?"

"That's your stubborn brain talking. And I love that about you. There's so many things about you I love, I can't even count all of them. So now I'm stuck with some pretty rich boy."

Everything inside Sonny swells, then lights up like a firework. "William."

"Please just wait until I'm finished." Will sighs, waiting until he's sure he can speak calmly. "I have so many friends that care about me, maybe even love me the way a friend is supposed to. I had John, who loved me like I was his. I have my grandma Marlena. But there's nobody in my life that loves me like you do. And the funny thing about that is, I've never loved anybody the way I love you. So, so much."

Will lifts his arms, undoing the chain around his neck. He holds it out to Sonny, letting the key dangle. "It's yours now. Has been for a while now. You're the answers to the secrets of the universe. You always were."

Sonny takes it, then to Will's delight, clasps it around his own neck. "We're going to be so happy, Will."

"We'd better. So are we actually getting married, or what?"

"Absolutely." With a laugh, Sonny spins him around in a circle. "Can you feel it?"

"Feel what? My head's still spinning."

"The mansion's ours. No one else's." Sonny pulls Will close. "The ghosts are gone. We're finally together, for all the days of our lives."

Will slides his arms around Sonny, leaning his mouth into Sonny's. "Welcome home, Sonny."


End file.
